st_ratagem

The beach hadn't been in Loki's original plans for the day, to the extent that he planned days ahead in the Inn. They were all similar enough that there seemed little point. But after a message from Thor arrived while he was spending his few hours in the clinic (no more than a few, as he was still primarily trying to stuff information into his head and it turned out there actually was a limit to how effective that was on a daily basis) his not-plans had shifted.

The message had been simple, almost innocuous. Anyone else would have read it as a simple 'hey, we should talk!' More of Thor's sporadic clinging. But Loki had a longer baseline, and a few things had put him on edge.

It wasn't going to be a conversation that should have an audience. There was a chance it wouldn't actually be a conversation, per se - he'd have thought 'lecture' if he'd actually done anything worth lecturing about. (Surely putting a small child on a very low to the ground tightrope didn't qualify.)

But that was how he'd come to be seated on the beach (easy enough to reach within the border timeline if he shapeshifted to a wolf) with a neat coil of twine beside him, tying it into the right series of knots for a decent fishing net and waiting for Thor to turn up.

If nothing else, he'd know if he still remembered how to make nets properly.

Twenty minutes had proved to be more than enough time to raid the café's bar area, taking several (eight? ten? Loki didn't count) bottles of various liquors. The God of Mischief was generally an occasional drinker or social drinker at best, but Thor was another matter. His brother had prodigious tolerance even for an Asgardian.

He wasn't used to a cryptic, secretive Thor, or a Thor with a bizarre tendency to follow him around like a puppy, or a Thor that wept on him for no apparent reason. It was strange, it was worrying, it had to stop. The solution had to be somewhere in what had happened between Loki's 'now' and Thor's, and if Thor needed to be drunk to give him those facts, his brother was more than happy to take that request seriously.

The acquired bottles went into the little nook under the stairs - not to stay there long, almost certainly. After due consideration, Loki also hauled the trash can out of the bathroom and placed it by the large bed on the lower level, for empties. It was the only decent place to sit that wasn't in the upper-level area that was for sleeping or the outdoor balcony.

At that point, all there was to do was wait.

As days went, this one was... sub-optimal. Not that Loki exactly minded not having to play-act Odin anymore, of course, but he had rather enjoyed being king. Even the ridiculous administrative details that should have been mind-meltingly boring somehow hadn't been. He'd miss that... assuming he could work out an exit that allowed him enough freedom to miss bureaucratic nonsense.

He'd bought some time to think before getting dragged to Earth, that was a good start. Getting finicky nearly always worked, and he'd flatly refused to go anywhere until the dragon-head and some of the brains and blood had been removed from the Bifrost room. Thor being Thor, though, had countered by insisting on 'supervising' the cleaning. Together.

He'd managed to take hold of Loki's arm as soon as 'make a break for it' had occurred to him.

It was extremely annoying.

Watching Skurge mop and drag as penance for failing his one job almost made up for it. Almost. "You know he's going to be as terrible at cleaning as he was at guarding, don't you?"