WHO: Loki, Erik, Adrasteia & y'all WHAT: Catch-all WHEN: Late Solace / Early August WHERE: Kirkwall NOTES: Language warning for Erik, otherwise nothing yet. Open starters in comments.
"I don't know the specifics of how it's done. All I know is that it looks like someone is being burned, atom by atom, until they simply... cease to be." He opens his hands in a shrug.
"I've been working with, and double-crossing, a group called the Time Variance Authority. Helping a..." He frowns, shakes his head. "Her name is Sylvie and they tried to kill her when she was a child so she wants to dismantle them, and I'm on her side at this point."
Loki sips his coffee. "Is the Loki you know so lacking in close friendships that you can't imagine him working with anyone else?" No judgement, he's just curious.
"Well Sylvie didn't kill me, and she was quite capable, so that's one thing." Sip. "For another the TVA made certain that either of us were never able to return home again, all in the name of Fate and Predestination, neither of which are concepts I'm personally comfortable with dictating how my life works out."
Benedict isn't wrong exactly, it's just that things with Sylvie are a bit more complicated than that. So he looks considering, for a moment, before he shrugs. "I suppose so."
Benedict wrinkles his nose again. It's an odd experience, like looking at Dickerson's weird little cat thing and knowing it's not really a cat, even if that's the form it takes.
It's hard to put a finger on-- and even then, when he starts to feel an inkling of it, it's hard to admit. He slumps down a little, resembling a recalcitrant schoolchild.
"It's. No fun, I suppose." 'Fun' being a translation of 'emotional manipulation and mind games', in this case, a matter on which he prefers not to dig any deeper.
Recoiling as though slapped, Benedict's first instinct is to snap, "no!"
Whatever Loki is to him, it surely wasn't that-- or at least not-- well. He deflates slightly, thinking on it, realizing to his chagrin that he doesn't actually know what 'in love' necessarily means. Or how it would look.
The complication goes far deeper than that, however, so he simply gives another rapid shake of his head and looks down.
Loki, a man who has complicated feelings about love, simply raises his eyebrows when Benedict denies it. It sounds like love, or some nearby emotional obsession, to him anyway.
He's not going to push though. "Just thought I would ask."
Ugh, this is a wash. The only thing worse than there being a stranger with Loki's face is that the stranger with Loki's face seems to pity him, or at least have sympathy, and that's untenable.
"I should. Go," Benedict grumbles, and rises from the table-- he's not angry, but bears the mark of someone who is fleeing before he can humiliate himself further.
"If you wish," is Loki's response to Benedict's rising, eyes tracking the man as he stands. He feels he's misstepped, somehow, but is not prepared to apologize for merely being curious. "It was good to see you."
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Sus as hell. This man might have Loki's name, and his face, but either this is a long con or something is very, very wrong.
"How is one removed from time," Benedict asks flatly, with great mistrust.
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"I've been working with, and double-crossing, a group called the Time Variance Authority. Helping a..." He frowns, shakes his head. "Her name is Sylvie and they tried to kill her when she was a child so she wants to dismantle them, and I'm on her side at this point."
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"So... you're dead," he concludes uncertainly.
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Loki sips his coffee. "Is the Loki you know so lacking in close friendships that you can't imagine him working with anyone else?" No judgement, he's just curious.
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"All right," he concedes, seeming displeased.
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It's hard to put a finger on-- and even then, when he starts to feel an inkling of it, it's hard to admit. He slumps down a little, resembling a recalcitrant schoolchild.
"It's. No fun, I suppose." 'Fun' being a translation of 'emotional manipulation and mind games', in this case, a matter on which he prefers not to dig any deeper.
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"I suppose it isn't." And yet.
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It was really a special relationship.
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Whatever Loki is to him, it surely wasn't that-- or at least not-- well. He deflates slightly, thinking on it, realizing to his chagrin that he doesn't actually know what 'in love' necessarily means. Or how it would look.
The complication goes far deeper than that, however, so he simply gives another rapid shake of his head and looks down.
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He's not going to push though. "Just thought I would ask."
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"I should. Go," Benedict grumbles, and rises from the table-- he's not angry, but bears the mark of someone who is fleeing before he can humiliate himself further.
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That's not a lie, at least.
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