VIDEO. UN: LOKI

[selfimage]

[ the sound of the wind storm hollows dully against the cave walls. Loki's squidge, Bacon, can half be seen crawling in the confines of his tacky green jacket and over his knee from where he sits, sometimes ducking and squeaking when a particularly large gust hits. to keep it from screaming, Loki offers his fingers absently, which the little squidge pulls on with its pudgy arms before ducking low again. ]

Hello there, it seems like we'll be waiting this out for some time considering the weather-type circumstances. While we're all rotting away, etcetera etcetera, I thought we could amuse ourselves with a game. A little bit of team bonding funtimes, so to say. [ he twists a dark nailed hand in the air, gesturing. ]

Soo—oo ... it's called Two Truths and a Lie. How do you play? Glad you asked, it's simple! Give two true statements about yourself and add a lie to the mix, shake it up then toss it out there and see if your team members know you well enough to spot the lie.

Usually this is done with copious amounts of alcohol, but we're lacking at the moment. [ pause. ] But—ah—you could always enjoy the satisfaction of being right. It's not like we're doing much else.

NOTE | Feel free to threadjack if that's your thing!! :****

Comments

[strictdiscipline]

[look!!]

Does it count as cheating if I ask an elaborating question on what a viking is?

[selfimage]

Those in the North—seafarer, raider, trader, blah blah blah. It's a historical thing.

[strictdiscipline]

[Hmm. Give her a moment.]

The last one?

[selfimage]

No, unfortunately. Bacon beats out sausage every time, but they both have merits as breakfast meats.

[strictdiscipline]

Is there any mean that doesn't have merit as a breakfast meat?

[She'll get back to the game in a bit.]

[selfimage]

Is there?

[ he sounds like this is something that's possibly just occurred to him. ]

ah what a terrible typo to make....

[strictdiscipline]

[Are you pulling her leg here, Loki? Nevertheless, she gives the question the appropriate amount of thought.]

I can't imagine liver going very well with scrambled eggs and potatoes.

[But maybe that's personal taste.]

i didnt even notice the typo what does that say about me

[selfimage]

It does when it takes the form of sausage.

...

Think about it!

[ he has, obviously. breakfast meats > most everything else ]

that you're a good person

[strictdiscipline]

I usually don't think about my breakfast foods in that much detail.

[is this really that important??]

[selfimage]

[ his tone drops like it's the most serious thing in the known multiverse. ]

Think about it.

[strictdiscipline]

[ why





this.

finally: ]

You're right, there doesn't appear to be a meat that doesn't go well in a breakfast meal.

[selfimage]

Mortals do such amazing things with meat.

[ that does seem to be serious. ]

[strictdiscipline]

[ smh.....she's tired of this meat topic now though, moving on ]

Which one was the lie then? Or do I need to guess again?

[selfimage]

I can't make it easy, can I? You'll need to guess again.

[ he sounds all too thrilled with that. ]

[strictdiscipline]

[ UGH. she's 90% certain she's seen him with black-tinted nails at some point during the past few missions so: ]

You're not actually a viking.

[selfimage]

Ding ding ding ding!

[ way to may victory annoying, Loki. ]

No, I'm not actually a viking, I'm a god of the vikings. Totally different.

[strictdiscipline]

[ suspicious squinting. she doesn't like this game. ]

And these vikings chose you to be their god?

[selfimage]

[ he absolutely does. ]

Not exactly; I've always been their god. Myths work in funny ways, you could say.

[strictdiscipline]

[Outside of Nalanni, she's never had any sort of interpersonal contact with gods. They're a strange bunch, as far as she can tell. Her voice sobers and turns genuinely curious.]

Do they will you into existence, or the other way around? Or does it not work like that at all?

[selfimage]

You mean, which came first, the chicken or the egg?

[ with that, at least, he sounds partially amused at her inquiry. ]

...

Who knows? The stories are skewed, depending on who you ask. The world was made from the blood and bone of an ancient giant, or the world began in fire and ice, or the elder gods paved the way, complete with hungry vengeance on their heels ...

They're all possibility, perhaps they're all true. Reality is woven on less than that.

[strictdiscipline]

[They're pretty words, to be sure, if ultimately meaningless. But perhaps that's what makes her human, her inability to comprehend times so far back in the past.]

You don't remember your early days?

[selfimage]

[ Loki considers the question for a moment, weighing it. he debates lying, but the truth is so absurd that any lie would be more believable. ]

No, it's the opposite, actually.

...

I remember many of my early days.

[ not the beginning of the realms, but his life, the gods, the tales, he remembers himself in many versions of them, on the tips of many tongues. ]

[strictdiscipline]

[A mysterious statement to end things on. Should she pry and ask more or should she leave things alone here? (Will he even answer truthfully if she does ask...?)

A moment ticks by, then two, before she finally speaks up again.]

What were they like?

[selfimage]

Let's just say that I'm glad that they're over.

[ his voice is light for such a heavy topic but the next time he speaks, he doesn't expect her to understand. ]

Recalling my memories is like watching a mountain through the fog. Sometimes it's clear, with outlined precipices and the rocky peaks making clear angles against a blue sky, and sometimes ... there are clouds cast over it, and when I remember again, it's as if it's something else. Still vivid in my mind.

[strictdiscipline]

[She doesn't, not fully, but she can respect the sentiment in his voice enough not to pry any further. Instead:]

I hope your days here have been better, then.

[It's a weak sentiment, to be sure, but for all that he seems capricious at times, he hasn't given her any real reason for worry.]