meadowlarklogs | those who died are justified;

Wow, that's harsh.

( he has a feeling someone spilled. not that it matters too much anyway; loki moves around him and jason follows after another moment, leans a hip back against the kitchen counter as loki peeks his head into the fridge. waits mildly patiently for pancakes. )

It's not a day I celebrate, at least.

[ someone absolutely spilled, but Loki doesn't look like he's going to throw anyone (see: Kate) under the bus just yet. maybe later, but definitely not just yet. he looks bedroom-eyed and thoughtful as Jason speaks, and he can get it: his own birth wasn't the most monumental occasion. out of everything that he'd like to celebrate, he probably wouldn't celebrate it, either. ]

Ah—as much as most any occasion is worth a good party, some are heavier than others, I suppose. Lucky for me, they don't keep a mortal calendar on the icy tundra of Jotunheim. I'd offer a coin for your thoughts. [ Loki pauses, makes a face. ] Or a credit, I suppose.

[ it's not demanding if Jason doesn't want to talk about it, but it's curious, nonetheless. they have time before the pancakes are done, and the mood is still lazy.

out comes a bowl, a hand blender, and a cheap metal spoon. with the directions on the back of the box already memorized, he goes about measuring and mixing. ]

( why does everyone want him to talk about his feelings, he hates this so much. but whatever. jason stays out of loki's way but close by still, rolls his eyes as if it's so much trouble, having to share personal deets. whatever. )

Family wasn't big on celebrating much of anything when I was a kid. There were some good years. ( tickets stolen off of an old couple, a few other boosted items that made their way to jason. thinking about it just--reminds him of those letters. of his mother. ) I . . didn't think much of it, before. ( going from seven to eight, ten to eleven. when you live under a dining room table that shit doesn't seem important at all. ) There were things after I was taken in by Haf's old man. Cakes, new gadgets. Nice pair of shoes.

( he's purposely giving half answers. loki isn't stupid enough not to catch on, but. )

But it's just another day. Nothing real special about it. I'm more interested in your origin story.

[ it's curiosity about the mortal realm as much as it is about Jason. there's a spark of amusement that twitches at the corners of his lips as Jason evades what he doesn't want to talk about—it's obvious, but Loki doesn't seem to intent on pushing. when he feels like talking, he does. ]

Gifts. [ hm. he follows up with: ]

There are lots of those. So many that I'm not even sure I remember it correctly, anymore.

[ its truer than Jason knows. ]

( jason opens up easy but only when it's not specifically asked for. he's happy to chat, bitch when something calls for it. but his birthday had never been something important, and he doesn't intend to make a Thing of it now. )

Tell me one? I wanna hear it.

( but he's still nosy as fuck when it comes to others. )

[ the pan warms up and Loki whips the pancake mixture thoughtfully, as if picking through this myth and that story to cobble things together into something meaningful. some are more true than others, and others are true only in caution, and not in tale. there are others still that are still fresh, and weave one thread into another.

Jason wanting to know was good. it helped him, in some ways, spread the story of who he had become. ]

They all start the same. They say that I was born in Jotunheim, the land of constant storm and harsh snow, so buried in ice that those lost among its tundras were said to be scattered beneath the very ground that was tread. Those that lived there were giants, Frost Giants, specifically. They were very large, hard folk, and Loki was very small. No one ever heard of a small giant, so in a place where strength was prized, he was not the most desired of offspring. And Loki's father—biological, as the mortals would say—Laufey, was not the kindest of people.

[ there's a little shrug as he spoons some batter into the pan. it hisses. the story itself is something that he's partially removed from, inked in so many books that it's known to many. ]

After that they split, details differing. There's one that says that there was a particularly fated battle between Asgard and Jotunheim, one where a child Loki cunningly tricked his father into a battle with Odin, the not-then-yet-All-Father, and was he was slain on Odin's blade. Others say it was Laufey who meant to prove himself by slaying Odin, and Loki was left fatherless. Whatever it was, the outcome was the same: Laufey died that day, and Odin took Loki as his ward.

[ a pause, curious. ]

Adoption was a lot easier a few millennia ago.

( he listens, quietly. jason's a shit but he does know when to shut his mouth--sometimes, when he feels like it. the story itself is entirely different from anything he knows of norse mythology, but that makes sense too, doesn't it? they're from different sides of the world. norse mythology especially is a hard thing to track down exacts for, considering most their shit from way back then traveled by word of mouth. like one huge ass game of telephone. )

So we both had shit fathers, then were adopted by still shit, but slightly better ones.

( right? is he getting this down right. that sounds close enough. )

Never would've pegged you for a frost giant considering, ( an appreciative glance over loki's form, taking in curves. ) Not that it matters any. First girl I ever kissed was made of shadows.

[ so many variations, carried by oral tradition, sometimes through the multiverse in different detail. it doesn't matter, he's here, regardless of who's telling the tale out there.

he flips the pancake in the pan. ]

As much as the gods and giants will dispute, there's never been much of a difference between them. Perhaps I'm some sort of abomination, perhaps I'm not ...

[ a pause, and the first pancake comes out of the pan. the second is poured. ]

It doesn't surprise me that you have a history.

[ with sort of magical/supernatural things. ]

Edited 2018-12-02 02:37 (UTC)

( eyes follow the prize: loki flips the pancake off onto a plate, and jason watches the finished one for a moment, keeps eyes locked onto the delicious, fluffy goodness before he turns attention back to the godling himself. grins wide, loose and easy. )

Even if you are an abomination, you're a goddamn beautiful one. Talented, too.

( a pancake flipping genius. his favorite kind. )

Back home, I-- ( the grin fades fast at the memory. expression a little sour, ) worked with an Amazon, for a while. And the clone of a very, very intense alien. Both of them could wipe the floor with me easy. Probably 'bout as easy as you could.

[ even if they are easy compliments, he's still not used to it. not the compliment itself, and not the funny, uncomfortable, warm feeling that sort of comes along with it. ]

You haven't even seen me at my best.

[ filled to the brim with sorcery, clicking his fingers and forming reality to his every demand, and threatening royalty with ancient relics. ah, sometimes it feels good to be mundane, and then there are times that he aches for the return of his divinity. ]

What were you working to do?

( jason isn't good about receiving them, but giving compliments like this is easy enough. after all, bruce trained them to keep their mouths running. distract with sass and snark and other flowy bullshit to keep the attention of the enemy. jason doesn't mind keeping it up.

moving off the counter, jason opens a cupboard. pulls out a cup, places it under the tap, and. .

gets a glass of water, for once. )

It started out with taking down Black Mask. Kinda turned into a baddie-of-the-week deal for a bit, before everything turned to shit.

[ 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉 ]

Do narratives always end like that? It seems like poor storytelling. I was contracted by the All-Mothers to return stray Asgardians to their awaiting arms. Even though I deviated a bit, it certainly ended in disaster.

[ there's a dull drag to his voice as he half turns to give Jason a flat gaze that gives an exaggerated mirror image to what he feels about that.

Jason's been here enough that he knows where everything is—given, it's not a very large space. ]

It was mostly on me.

( a quiet confession, but one that rings true. he drinks down a good half the glass before setting it aside, moving back to the counter behind loki while he flips pancakes. )

Got some news I wasn't anticipating, fucked up and focused on that--a bunch of old crap that didn't even matter--instead of focusing on them when. . one of them was falling apart at the seams. He lost his mind, quite literally, and it ended in all the shit we'd been working towards getting decimated.

( because jason didn't focus his attention on what was truly important, as always. )

Guess that's just what happens.

[ the thing about Jason is that he leaves out certain parts of the story so it can't be connected. Loki gets the idea, but not the details. he's gotten some here or there, a sprinkle or word vomit when Jason feels like talking. his failures are masked by broad terms and disconnection.

another pancake is added to the pile, golden on both ends, as Loki spoons more batter into the pan. it's quiet for a moment, and it sizzles. ]

Having friends is ... difficult. Easy to find some, but hard to keep. [ he hasn't quite figured it out yet. ] One selfish whim, and they're easy to hurt. ... Speaking from experience.

[ he thinks of Verity, and of Kate, and then tries not to connect those again. ]

I. .

( jesus. this is hard. but loki isn't asking, isn't demanding, isn't even prompting. he's just leaving openings. )

There was an explosion, something falling from the sky, a preventable disaster, was going to kill a good portion of my city. They threw it through a portal, had to go through it themselves. But it was a portal that functioned off the structure it was pulling through it. So who the hell knows if they're alive.

( that half explains it without getting into biz's . . business. )

They're fucking indestructible. An Amazon and a Kryptonian. God, after Roy I didn't want to work with anyone else, but I figured--hell, they can both kick my ass, I couldn't hurt them unless I was seriously trying to, I wouldn't accidentally cause any damage. But here we are.

[ there's a little sizzle in the background as Loki adds more pancakes to the pile. it's not a stretch for him, these sorts of events happened to him all the time, but he's beginning to understand something about Jason: the failures that he's blaming himself for had come with consequence beyond that of his own making. a stone falling down a mountain and becoming an avalanche.

Loki's wins, or failures, had always been as extravagant as they were meant to be. they hurt the people they were meant to, whether it was Thor, his father, or all of Asgard. while Jason was thoughtless, he didn't seem to want to deliberately hurt people. it had been something Loki had given up when he began this new life: no more using people to play on his own ambitions. no more burning others. thoughtlessness took other forms, and he was still working that one out. ]

That sounds like something very, very big. [ and non-mortal. ] How was this your fault?

[ there's context here that Jason isn't giving. Loki sounds like he's trying to connect the gap between one thing and the other. ]

I knew he was falling apart. Knew he was dangerous. ( it's like the whole bullshit with the joker's daughter all over again. duella dent. the one he believed in because he knew no one else would, who he tried to piece back together only to have it all blow up right in his goddamn face. ) Had the means to put him down for good, but . . I couldn't do it.

( wouldn't try again, not after what he saw in bizzaro that first time. when he'd brought his gun equipped with kryptonite, ready to blow out his brains because while jason was controllable to an extent, bizzaro never learned restraint. he crushed heads without hesitation, without thinking through consequences. but he was jason's family still. )

He needed someone, and I wasn't there. We--knew he wasn't going to last much longer, clones like him have an expiration date. But I lost focus. Let some other stupid bullshit distract me. I wasn't there when he needed someone. I didn't get there in time to stop the base from self destructing.

( but he lifts his shoulders, gives an easy shrug. tries to let it go. )

Shit happens.

[ out of the cabinet comes the syrup: Loki's upped his game, there's simple syrup and cherry simple syrup. the only good thing about living in this place is that not much is artificial anymore, and it's made from real cherries. if it's one thing that Loki is very serious about, it's breakfast. ]

If Thor hadn't shown me compassion, I wouldn't be here. More times over than I can remember, or count, for that matter. [ the stack has reached six pancakes, and Loki's adding another. ] Perhaps you made a poor decision in the end, but that doesn't sound like that's all it was. Misfits and clones with expiration dates need a place, too.

[ he leans against the counter with his elbows, twisting a fork in his fingers before digging in. that had partially been the point of his own origin story: Loki the misfit, Loki the one who never fit in with neither the gods nor giants. ]

( loki starts eating and jason follows suit, grabs onto a fork out of the drawer and shoves it into the stack of pancakes around the other's fingers. shoves it into fluffy goodness and twists off a piece to shove it into his mouth. delicious. just what he came here for.

and just as satisfying as jason had hoped. thank you very much. he takes the time to chew around the pancake before bothering trying to answer, swallows down, )

Yeah. That's me. Gatherer of misfits and clones. ( but his tone turns spiteful, sour. ) For all the good it does, when I get everyone fucking killed.

( destroys everything he touches, ruins every relationship he tries to build up because jason isn't responsible, he's not good at this, he's not good at holding people together and definitely isn't great at keeping them alive. )

[ Loki's never been good at it either. he's been a catalyst: someone who breaks things apart, breeds destruction and causes disruption. the gods had never been good at anything that rocked their boat, so he became something villainous to them. in some cases they were right, in others ... well, they were just scared. ]

Try to do something good. [ he twists his fork in the air. there's a wry tone to his voice. ] And somehow—somehow—it always comes back. As someone who's former incarnations found their own accountability lacking, well, everything gets bigger the more shit happens.

[ it's easier to blame yourself, it's also easier to point the finger. he hasn't found a good in between on that one, yet. responsibility had never been his strong point, no matter how much he tries to get better. there are some things that still sit heavy with him.

then he pauses, and sighs like he's not good at this at all. ]

I suppose ... what I mean to say is ... [ the fork is held between his thumb and forefinger, and he lets it droop to either side like a teeter-tauter. Loki always looks like he knows what he's doing, always collected, but his expression relaxes a little bit. ] You gave someone a chance, even if it ended badly. Some of us need that. It must be worth something.

( there's a piece of loki that understands what jason's getting at, and he appreciates it. isn't sure if he appreciates the whole you tried sticker he's putting over it, but. there's only so much one can do about that, isn't there? fork shoved back down into pancakes and jason twists off another huge ass piece, shoves it into his mouth.

chews on it while he thinks what words to twist. sincerity has never been his strong suit, bringing any of this up was probably a mistake. loki knows a little too much for his taste, but jason can't help opening his mouth and spilling out more bullshit, anyway. it's too late to go back--and even if jason could, the shit that damian has spilled mixed with dick's identity and their whole brothers shit is enough. anyone could tear open the very thinly veiled mask over their identities, pull together who bruce wayne is if he shows up.

jason should care more, probably. but he's already fucking disappointed him enough for seven lifetimes, a little more can't hurt anyone. besides: loki already has his name. there's a loose, barely there smile on his lips when jason raises his (water) glass up, offers it over to loki. )

"Us", huh? To misfits and outlaws, I guess.

( may as well keep to his brand. )

[ there's a thoughtful look on his face, like he's remembering something.

if he couldn't believe in the breath of possibility between his own failures, then he was lost. sometimes it felt like he was closer to his own framework of Loki, and other times it was just a sick dance toward the next disaster. King Loki had put a stake in the ground, and he couldn't turn to that pit that demanded his own existential demise. where Jason blamed himself, Loki blamed others, but this was neither. he could claim to know his former friends, but anyone with a shred of immortality chose a fate of their own design; taking the blame for that felt like discounting their own choices.

their situation was poor, even disregarding the crap from their own worlds: drugged and controlled, forced into a corner and then left here to be used. Loki hated all of it, but Jason made it more tolerable. (even right now when he's shoving pancakes into his loud mouth.) it's just like Verity made certain things better, like David had. maybe he'd burn the rest to the ground when he found out who did this.

ah, but for now.

a ghost of an ironic smile turns up at the corners of his mouth, dangerous like the edge of a knife. ]

...

To thieves and rebels. [ he holds up the fork to clink it against the cup. ] Shouldn't we follow that up with something else? Like "may the fires we light burn bright" or ... "may our explosions be large and gratifying" and blah blah blah?

[ what had he said to his former incarnation? he would rather die than not change. ]

( a glass of tap water and a fork make an interesting toast. jason can't help the laughter that bursts free after, setting his glass down to shove his fork back into the pancakes. another mouthful in his big huge mouth swallowed down, before he even bothers trying to speak again. )

God, Lo, you're-- ( something else is where he was going with that. maybe fucking amazing, but he stops mid-sentence. remembers who he's with, where they're at. what the hell he's supposed to be doing here. and it's not--quite right. there's something off, something he got bits and pieces of before. jason hasn't fucking laughed like this in. forever. but he does so freely here without restraint. without memories weighing down on him without things hurting so bad.

he's comfortable. too comfortable. getting too used to all of this when it's all going to come crashing down around him any moment. he'll fuck something up, again. do something truly fucking awful, again. destroy any chance at maintaining jack shit and when their goal is to get out of here anyway? god, what's the point of all this? of being friendly, of making faces and eyes at gods, getting along with the local vigilante crowd--

it's all fucking pointless. the fork gets set down on the table as he finishes what he has, purses lips before he's turning in to press a kiss against the curve of a cheekbone (there's something dark in there, a deep-seated fear. jason tries to hide it under the contentedness of before, but) with one hand raising to try and help loki turn in towards him more, fingers brushing through dark hair. )

Hate to eat and run, but I forgot 'bout something. I'll see you tonight?

[ there are certain aspects of this that he's well aware of: that Jason may leave at any time, that Thor might, that Jason might find out what he's really like and cast him away for it, that he may leave and return to Asgard, that they may find who's done this and it'll end. it's an uncomfortable feeling that he's willfully ignored, covering it with the sour taste that came along with his freedom being stripped away. ]

Hm? [ the exchange is a surprise, and he gets a hint of dread that stirs something in him. it's a feeling that he's constantly dancing with, that pools at the base of his belly and tightens in his chest. Jason's spooked.

it passes, and Loki's fingers curl in his shirt as he examines his face. there's a lift of his brow and a little suspicous line of his mouth. ]

Don't worry, I'll have you make it up to me. [ perhaps he shouldn't let him go, but he's not Jason's keeper. there are not many mortal agents of chaos, but he knows well that Jason is a catalyst, and Jason is struggling with it. ]

those who died are justified;

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