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!! :****

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[respired]

[ A 'hum' in his throat. ]

No peace.

[selfimage]

[ and no freedom. ]

No. [ bitterly: ] I am a tool of fate.

[respired]

If you had the chance to die a true death, would you take it?

[ Koltira's been a tool of something ever since his death. The Lich King, first. The Horde. Sylvanas. Even here and now, people use him for their own ends. ]

[selfimage]

If it was good? [ he's of the Aesir, it has to be a good death. ] A million times over.

...

Now? I'm a story, and I refuse to be a poor one.

[respired]

[ He furrows his long eyebrows. Loki's made some references to this kind of thing before, but Koltira didn't understand it then, and he sure doesn't understand it now. ]

Tell me what that means.

[selfimage]

I'm a god, I'm not like mortals. Mortals are made of flesh and bone, and gods are made out of story and myth. We are constructs—very real constructs, but constructs, nonetheless.

It lends to some damning expectations.

[ and some flexibility, but that's something for another time. ]

[respired]

[ As he's said before, Koltira's never really had great experiences with gods. He's only encountered the massive, unknowable, cosmic evil kind. Not the maybe-a-decent-guy kind. ]

You are chained by your divinity, then.

[selfimage]

There was a time when those who knew of our circumstances found divine loopholes to use the cycle of life and death for their own benefit, reducing the gods to fodder.

...

So, yes. Chains, you could say.

[respired]

Unfortunate.

[ In other words: that's rough, buddy. ]