[open] I could just hear them now, 'how could you let us down?'

[icasm]

WHO: Loki and anyone who is around
WHAT: Loki arrives and connects, reconnects, sleeps, causes problems, etc.
WHEN: last two weeks of Firstfall, first two weeks of
WHERE: The Gallows & Kirkwall
NOTES: nothing yet, will update as needed

∞ : an arrival, more or less : open to all : the Gallows infirmary

The return to Thedas is wholly unpleasant, as far as returns that don't involve time-skipping go.

Instead of returning as he'd left, or as he was, back in whatever reality his consciousness was split(‽) from only to spit him newly out of the Fade and smack dab on his ass, surrounded by demons, in the nearby wilds of the Planasene Forest, Loki reacquired consciousness dressed as he had been the first time the Loom fell and the TVA with it — including his TVA work suit, peacoat, and a copy of OB's "bestseller" The TVA Handbook in his pocket.

He did not arrive armed at all, and an attempt to summon his daggers, a sword, anything only had him frowning at his empty hands as volunteers from Riftwatch fan out in a half circle around him. Someone tosses him a short sword with a yell that he'll have to help defend the group; of course he will, what else would be expected? That he would just cry, curl in on himself, give up?

As appealing as that short list of options was? No.

The short sword will do, for now.

He falls asleep in the cart taking him back to the Gallows more than once. Is only woken up each time when someone grasps his shoulder and shakes roughly - no amount of calling his name or gentle treatment appears to make it through the heavy fog of intermittent narcoleptic catching up to massive amounts of sleep debt. He spends the next five days more or less asleep on a bed in a corner of the infirmary until he manages to remain awake through an entire meal... without anyone speaking to him directly the entire time.

For, you see, the moment anyone turns their back to him or isn't engaging him in conversation, he tends to doze off nearly immediately. But at least he is given clearance to leave the infirmary and take up room elsewhere in the Gallows, seeing as how he's apparently not actively ill or appears a health and safety risk to others; he's just, as he keeps telling whomever may ask, rather tired.



[ Individual & localized starters in comments, feel free to wildcard to your ♥ content | I will match your format ]

Comments

[portalling]

“Yes, I heard as much from miss Baudin. Welcome back. You’re in the infirmary in the Gallows, and I’m the Head Healer. I’ve been overseeing your rest over the past few days.” His fingers drum restlessly against the book as he measures that frown, that blank lack of recognition.

How strange, that Tony would vanish and now the universe delivers Loki on his doorstep, as if it’s some bizarre cosmic balancing of the scales —

“I never encountered you in Thedas, but we actually met once, back in New York,” he says mildly, unaware of the technicalities. “Doctor Stephen Strange, at your service.”

[icasm]

Frowning, sharply. Miss Baudin... ah, yes, Gwenaëlle. His face brightens at having accessed that information in his intensely sleep-addled and deprived brain. He knows things! He remembers!

She's still around. That's... amazing and heartwarming and possibly terrifying but then again Gwenaëlle is by turns amazing and definitely terrifying. To Loki, anyway.

However. This man says they've met. Loki doesn't think they've met? Once, in New York. The name is familiar, though, give Loki a moment...

"Ah." He got there. "You and I have not met; you met the Loki that Thanos murdered in front of what remained of the people of Asgard on their way to Earth.

Different version. So sorry."

[portalling]

Those words indicate evoke something ambivalent and undefinable — is the sentiment barbed and bitter? quick, offhand, uncaring? hard to tell, and Strange doesn’t know Loki well enough to read him — but he does straighten in his seat, curiosity piqued.

Some people might have been incredulous upon hearing different version, but the good doctor’s already seen and met several of his own, and so he takes it in stride. He wonders for a fleeting second whether you’re supposed to offer condolences for the death of an alternate self (do you say sorry for your loss?) but having been in that position himself of gazing at a dead Doctor Strange, he opts not to try. They’re yourself and they’re a stranger both.

“Ah,” he echoes back, leaning forward. “Really? Fascinating. And you’re already familiar with other versions— does that mean you’ve also travelled the multiverse?”

And self-centered as Strange can be, there’s the brief flicker of instinctive worry underpinning that question: did I do this? did he bleed over because I fucked up my spell?

[icasm]

"Traveling is, perhaps, a word doing a great deal of work in that question." Loki waves his hand in a so-so gesture. "I have spent some time traveling the multiverse, mostly without my consent and outside of my own control. I have also spent some time at the End of Time, which is a sort of multiversal nexus point, I suppose?"

A shrug. That becomes a yawn, and then Loki shakes his head a little. "We all have He Who Remains to thank for that."

So, no. Not Stephen Strange's fault at all.

[portalling]

Strange thought he was blasé enough about the Asgardians (extremely long-lived aliens who had influenced mythology and had a foot in with witches’ magic and frost giants, yes, nothing too mindblowing), but this perks him to attention immediately. He’d had a vested interest in a familiar face from back home, even if their few times crossing paths hadn’t been precisely friendly, but this suddenly sharpens it.

“The End of Time? A multiversal nexus point? What are you—”

But Loki seems on the verge of nodding off again, chin dipping as he glazes out of the conversation, and Strange has to resist the urge to toss some cold water in his face or shove a mug of hot coffee in his hands. The academic curiosity will have to wait. Your patient just woke up. Priorities, doctor.

“When you’re less…” whatever this is, “I’m going to have a heap of questions for you about that. But in the meantime, quick, before we lose you again: why are you like this, and how are you feeling? You don’t seem injured in any way I can tell. Is there anything you need?”

[icasm]

Loki musters enough to let out a chuckle. "Might be a while. I haven't slept..." Another wide yawn, and he pinches himself on the inside of the wrist in order to keep up with the conversation long enough to at least convince someone that he isn't liable to fall over from anything beyond exhaustion immediately.

It works. He shakes his head and his eyes go into focus before he blinks himself back to the topic at hand. "It has been. Several centuries. Since I last remember sleeping. I imagine being human doesn't agree with that particularity. I am only tired. That's all."

No diseases, no injuries. Merely centuries upon centuries of sleep debt crammed into a mortal body.

potential wrap ♥

[portalling]

“Centuries?” Strange asks, incredulous. “I know you’re long-lived, but surely you still needed some kind of rest to survive. How is that even possible—”

Loki had managed to muster himself long enough to deliver the most important detail, but it seems that was the last momentary burst of energy— he drifts, and now he’s out like a light again. The almost-empty glass of water slips out of his palm, drops towards the floor, and Strange snaps out with quick reflexes to catch it in one hand. He sets the glass delicately back on the bedside table.

And he scrutinises the sleeping Asgardian. Makes a thoughtful noise, a cluck against his teeth.

He has so many more questions, but it seems they’ll have to wait.