meadowlarklogs

Entry tags:

[open]

WHO: Ojiro + anyone
WHERE: Safehouse, New Amsterdam's artificial river.
WHEN: Beginning-Mid July
WHAT: open log
NOTES OR WARNINGS: None really.

Morning Run
Sniper rolls out of bed every morning at 4:30 on the dot to go running, sometimes for an hour, sometimes for three. Still nursing a broken wrist, it's the one exercise they can still go all-out on, and if striving against the weakened state of their body didn't fix this whole stupid situation, it at least felt like getting something done.

They've managed to get extracting themself quietly down to an art, sleeping in their work out clothes (stolen during recent chaos, thanks kaiju) so their fumbling in the dark doesn't wake up any of the others still bunking in the safe house.

They're not opposed to company, if someone else picks up the habit. For anyone they catch awake at this hour, they give a teasing smile in the dark, whispering. "If you want to come, you have to keep up."

Sport Commentary
Sniper's inserted themself into the cooking rotation—it seemed only fair, given the amount of calories they burned through in a day—and has mastered making most of the cheap nutritious staples one-handed. Gone most of the day scouting New Amsterdam and lining up job prospects, they're always back in time to help make dinner.

Once the initial frustration of being here had faded enough to allow for idle curiosity about this version of Earth, Sniper had been drawn to investigate the cultural cornerstone they knew best: sports. The results had been disappointing. Nothing very innovative. The Olympics were still going at least, but digging further, professional sports in general seemed open only to the already-rich. There had been plenty of accusations that Sniper had used money to compensate their own small size with expert training for the pentathlon (true on paper though not in spirit), but back home it wasn't weird to see the non-wealthy go professional.

They've been steadily watching their way through the past Olympiads: opening ceremony, the pentathlons, record-breaking achievements. They use the implant with the ease of long familiarity; it was pretty similar to what they had back home (back home it didn't require brain surgery) so chopping things for dinner at the same time was easy. Judging my their scoffing, they're not that impressed. "That's the record?"

Free Lunch!
Afternoon generally finds Sniper by New Amsterdam's artificial river to find lunch. The river is a sad sight for someone who grew up seeing the ocean—this whole world was a sad sight compared to their own flourishing world—but it was lively and less claustrophobic than the rest of the city. And the food wasn't bad.

They're buying some dumplings when they spot a fellow safehouse occupant. Even if there hasn't been a formal introduction, the face is familiar, and they wave over, gesturing to the cartoon of dumplings in their hand with a smile.

"Want some? My treat."

When's the last time you had something that wasn't bug casserole?

Cast-off

Around mid-july the cast on their wrist finally comes off! You can find them celebrating doing one-armed pushups in the safe house.

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Sniper's expression is opaque, dark eyes giving away nothing but mild curiosity. "So are you going to work save this world?"

There was a lot Sniper could say to that. Large-scale change takes large-scale destruction. Their own world had had to nearly destroy itself to become better, and it had worked, because the cost had been so horrifying the people left over realized they never wanted to pay it again. It could work for this world, that was true. It felt clear to Sniper that their group was the change, but they didn't have time for this world's problems.

"I've never been one for saving anything."

But he has. He's been the hero, he likes it, but it's not really Loki. He's better at opening doorways and creating options.

"But I'm a god of chaos, I'd be a poor one if I didn't advocate for change."

They laugh. "Fair." Sniper doesn't believe him, about not being one to save things, and maybe Loki can read that into the curve of their smile. They don't pursue it. In a way they envy Loki, a little. Saving the world sounds fun, challenging. They could do it; it'd be good practice for saving their own. But they had to assume the worst, that enough time had passed that their own world was already at war, and needed them as soon as possible.

Every time he tries to save something, someone tells him that he's doing it the wrong way, or not in the expected way that someone should. It could have lead to his distaste, and his own self-depreciation. Sometimes a little chaos was more fun than righting horrible wrongs.

"Besides, there's a clear tension that has mounted. This world might not need saving, it just might need a little push into saving itself."

Says the catalyst.

"Have you seen this sort of thing often? Worlds ending, or eras." They're not mind-reading, just making some assumptions. They didn't agree with Loki's prognosis&mdash:Sniper was very aware of the fallibility of God's when it came to understanding human nathre—but that wasn't the same as dismissing his perspective.

"Just how old do you think I am?" there's just a hint of amusement in his voice and a brow raise at Sniper. While there may be a certain mortal outlook on the divine, Loki wonders if the gap can be connected.

"But yes—in a manner of speaking. I've seen endings both mortal and divine, and I've even been responsible for them from time to time. Luckily ..." he clucks. "I don't do that sort of thing anymore."

Sniper raises an eyebrow right back. "I don't know, how old are you?"

Old enough for that particular resume, but that wasn't really a helpful metric. Sniper could have said the same thing about themself, and they were just 30. "What sort of thing is 'that' sort of thing?"

"Cause apocalypses."

He says it like everyone's gone and done it in their lifetime.

"I've been through quite a few of them, was the catalyst for most of them. So, this time around what you see is what you get—I haven't quite figured it out, but I'd say around mortal drinking age."

There are other reasons he hasn't quite figured it out, but no one really admits to killing their former incarnation. It's a bad line.

"Younger than me." And about the same age as Jehovah, the god that, with Sniper, had started a minor apocalypse of their own. Indirectly. The age strikes them more as a coincidence than a significant fact, but as for the rest... "How much do you remember, about your past incarnations? Was the causing apocalypses thing just a feature of the god Loki, or a coincidence?"

"If you want to know that kinda stuff, you're going to have to buy me a drink."

It's easy to disconnect himself from the Lokis that he's been, to paint himself over with varnish and consider himself not that Loki. There is the myth, and there's the person. There are always details that myths miss.

"Is there no Loki in your realms?"

"Sure. We can find a place now if you want." They're done with their food anyway, disposing of the packaging but making no move to keep walking until Loki signals.

Sniper thinks long enough about the question to indicate that they're picking over a solid maybe. But no, despite the gods popping up recently, neither had been mythological. Just weirdos. And Loki evidently was flashy. They shake their head. "No, I don't think so."

Loki just tips his head and waits for Sniper to follow his swagger. They're off in a direction around the corner, lots of places have outdoor drinking areas.

"Small comforts. Why are you so interested, anyway?"

Sniper answers with an amused smirk. "Being interested in gods has been the primary occupation of a lot of humans for hundreds of years."

Not to mention they did need to know if Loki was maybe going to cause on apocalypse. It didn't seem like the kind of thing you could just quit. They were pretty sure that's where this world was going anyway, but knowing how imminent that might be would be useful.

"I didn't think you'd be the type to lump yourself with all the humans over the course of their entire history with the divine."

It's said like the punchline of a joke.

Sniper had debated the wisdom of sharing this information so it was only now that they were more sure of Loki and the situation in general it felt sensible to share. They shrug, conceding the point with a smile. "I know a god. Well, someone who's probably a god. We met recently. It's made me curiouwrabouttgods as a class."

Not 'a god showed up and screwed up everything in the world' though there was truth to that.

While Loki doesn't expect trust, he never really does, but he pays attention. Omission is a powerful tool, but sometimes there's more said in what people don't say than what they do.

"I'm not exactly the poster child for all gods, but I've got stories. Mine may not be how the resonance expresses itself." There was an opportunity here. He had an evil future self somewhere holding the axe just inches from his neck, and he meant to find an escape route.

The place is nice, all metal and what passes for brick. There's a neon sign that's bright agains the artificial light.

"But sure, why not? Let's talk divinity."

Luckily Sniper's implant verifies they're an adult, because no bartender would believe it otherwise. They let Loki order and get one of the same. Their tolerance, never good, was now really bad, so they weren't planning on drinking much.

They let the drinks come first and give Loki a chance to drink first. Watching him, chin propped on their laced fingers. "So?"

"So."

Loki starts, twisting the ice around in his glass.

"I'm not sure how to start this off aside from gods aren't like humans. Humans are real, solid, and gods ... we are creatures of story. My memory ..."

There's a tired smile that twists on his face. He still looks like he's up to something, no matter how exhausted he is.

"It's like that. It can't distinguish the story from the event."

Head cocked, expression neutral, interested to hear what Loki has to say. And how he says it. Obviously it's a heavy topic, for Loki. Sniper can understand that, even though they can't sympathize.

They say, frankly: "Do you really think humans aren't like that?"

"Remember a few dozen incarnations that have happened over the millennia? Distinguish their own childhood from myth? I didn't think so."

There were several tales of his upbringing, and occasionally they cross in ways that he can't pinpoint. His origin is mashed up in an expression of oral tradition, not in the patchwork fashion of mortal memory.

It was almost chilling to hear that the first difference that came to Loki's mind was that mythic memory. It was the very line between story and reality that was being challenged in their own world; to Sniper, it wasn't a clear division at all. They shake their head, not conceding the point but not having the patience for a metaphysical argument. This was already turning out to be pretty informative.

"Keep going."

"The universe has certain expectations for the divine—ah, it likes patterns, it likes repetition, and thus resonance."

It's never a clear division, and even less so now that he can't perceive the nuances. That doesn't mean that a futuristic evil self isn't still bent at destroying him.

To make him an evil him.

"So—gods generally have natures—or, a role, so to speak ... a designation of some natural phenomena that they dictate."

Again, not unlike how it was for some humans, if Mycroft's ranting about Providence was to be believed. Whether it was or wasn't hadn't ever mattered to Sniper. They had chosen their duty and its consequences, and they had never regretted it.

'Resonance' is a new phrase, one Sniper can sort of intuit the meaning of through context, but they make a note to ask more about it later. It sounds like a more interesting theory than providence.

"Right. And yours is chaos. Doesn't that go directly against repetition?"

There was a lot he did to loosen himself from the grip of the universe, to pull himself from beneath its fingers and emerge as something else, something new. He burned a lot of people, he sacrificed an incarnation, and now here he was, sitting on a mountain of his own crimes, in debt for his existence.

"Stagnation does, but repetition can turn to stagnation." And has. "Gods are tied closely to that universal expectation, either in a linear fashion, or a cyclical one. The expectation the universe had for me was to begin the chain of events that would signal the end of Asgard, and the end to all the gods. Stories have beginnings, middles and endings—the gods took it as destiny, their end always looming in the horizon.

"But it didn't just happen once. That history repeated—over, and over, and over again. Rebirth, rebuild, destroy and die."

Sniper's drink is mostly neglected; Loki has their full attention, head cocked, dark eyes intent. Instinct tells them Jehovah and Bridger aren't 'these' kinds of gods. So the cycle stuff is interesting, but what really has their attention is what Loki's dancing around. How do you stop destiny?

Mycroft believed in providence. Achilles believed in fate. Sniper believed in choices and consequences, but they believed in covering all the bases, too. Loki made it apparent that such things could exist and curtail the freedom of both gods and humans—because it wasn't just the gods that died, right? It was disturbing to think, but—

"But you don't do that any more. So what, you made it—"A vague hand gesture. "Stop? End for good?"

Broke it, in other words.

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selfimage - 2018-10-16 19:59 (UTC) - Expand

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