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strangetrip2018-08-12 07:43 am
st_ratagem) wrote in strangetrip2018-08-12 07:43 am
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[Log - Loki and Illyana] the first domino
This hotel made no sense, even after nearly two weeks. Loki was by no means an expert on mortal hotels, but generally speaking the room numbering didn't... skip around the way this seemed to. One number followed the previous in sensible fashion, and different floors tended to be different sets, usually by hundreds.
This place was... not like that. Add in the fact that his perspective was much closer to the ground than he was used to, and his usual ability to know where he was and how to get elsewhere had taken a sharp nosedive.
So he wandered the halls when he could avoid both Stark and Liz, occasionally jumping on hall furniture or craning his neck to read room numbers and memorize their placement. It was horrifyingly manual, but it was the best he could do. On the bright side, he believed that he was mostly done.
To all superficial appearances, a black kitten with large green eyes was capering about aimlessly. There could hardly be a more generally harmless and adorable creature for the given place and time.
Illyana Rasputin did not generally deal in superficial appearances. She dealt in magic, and force of will, which was the essential component that powered all magic. And so illusory or transmutation magic being used to conceal a being's true form - even a very powerful being, even if she could not readily see behind their veil - was not lightly obscured from her piercing scrutiny. The newcomer would have done as well to hide its nature from her notice by throwing a blanket over their head.
She stopped in place on her passage through the hallway to watch the 'kitten' romping along for some minutes much as a patient predator would track the movements of its prey, eyes narrowed, attention focused, expression otherwise impassive. "You look ridiculous," she told the creature aloud.
Loki flicked an ear. Then, just to double down because of course he was ridiculous, he was a kitten, he rolled his whole body in a bizarrely lopsided somersault to turn himself around to face the new arrival. Instead of, you know, just turning on his feet like a sensible creature. Then he mewed, the cutest squeakiest noise he could manage.
If you're going to commit to something, commit.
Faced with the objectively adorable display, the sorceress moved closer. Not close enough that he could reach her with a lunge, but close enough that she could stare down at him from where she stood and challenge his gaze directly with her own. "No. You will not buy me so cheaply, so stupidly, with a pathetic squirm and a mewl. I see through your sham, and I don't trust you. You are no better than a pest." Her voice lowered intently, and she purposefully bit off each word. "You. Are. Not. Cute."
Loki had always enjoyed a challenge; the best tricks were always the more difficult ones, and sometimes even being found out was entertaining. The fact that this woman - who had to be some sort of sorceress, to know so quickly that he was play-acting - was challenging him so directly was unspeakably charming. Especially so since she didn't actually seem to have anything against him personally, only against the play-acting.
Of course, he wasn't going to give in immediately, either. He'd heard worse, and he was, in fact, very cute. "Mew?"
Illyana would have argued that 'cuteness' was contextual. Yes, the present form he danced about featured infant-like large, wide eyes, tiny noises, soft fur and seemingly clumsy movements that were engineered to take advantage of human impulses to nurture their young. But Illyana was hardly as susceptible as an unwitting teenage human girl. Where she came from, the young and weak were eaten. And he was no kitten.
Yet it was just as clear to her that he did not intend to admit when he had been caught out. Not here and not now.
"Hn. As you will." Eventually, his deception would become problematic. She would not hesitate to reveal what she knew to others at such a time. Yet she supposed there was little harm in allowing him to continue as he would for the time being, especially given that she would be paying great attention to what he did about the Inn.
Illyana rose, and walked briskly over him in a single stride, continuing on her way down the hall. "When you decide to stop debasing yourself with this farce," she told the kitten, "I can be found in the library."
This place had a library? All the exploring he'd done and he'd somehow missed a library? While it would have been unlikely to have anything worth reading in Loki's view under most circumstances (at least, nothing worth reading that he hadn't read before), the fact that this unusual person was involved with it meant... maybe he'd be surprised.
Regardless, Loki missed books. Odin had never been much of a reader, which meant it had been years since he'd had much opportunity.
It took only a few seconds of consideration before he decided that the lure of written words overcame a need to be particular about a guise that had already cracked a few times in oddball ways. It was possible that she'd be reasonable and let him keep his secrets provided she was excepted from them... and if not, well. Loki had dealt with mortals before. So yes, fuck it, books > diminishing returns on personal concealment.
He bounced off after her, following closely at her heels.
Although Illyana was well aware that the form of a tiny fluffy beast was bumbling after her, she did not mark the company. She continued onward, quite as she would have without the diminutive feline shadow, until she reached the open doors of the library and passed through them for the circulation desk. She was mildly interested in what if anything the 'kitten' might make of the magic knitting the library together. It would, however, require that he communicate more effectively than he had done thus far.
The mishmash of spells on the 'library' was decidedly impressive. Nothing about the enchantments looked Asgardian, which was decidedly good to know and information that would have been difficult to get any other way. There were elements both familiar and unfamiliar about the rest, and not just because most of the spells appeared to be protective, and that had never really been Loki's particular wheelhouse. He could do it, of course, but other things were easier. And even a cursory glance from kitten level showed that the books weren't just from Midgard.
Decent books were worth the risk inherent in showing himself before he fully understood his situation, and under normal circumstances any illusions he cast to hide himself could be made to blend in with the rest of the area. (Circumventing the abjurations would be harder, but there was no reason to try it at present.) Decision made, Loki shifted into his own shape - with the black suit he'd been wearing in New York, because what the hell, this was still something like Midgard. "Lovely work, here. I assume it's at least partly yours?"
The true form of the kitten reminded Illyana vaguely of the sullen half-elf that dressed in feathers, as if always attending a flamboyant funeral. They were both of them pale of skin and dark of wardrobe, trim and slender in build, and more pretty than she cared for in a man. But this particular man had far greater pride, for one. The invisible magical energy roiling off of him was hardly secondhand, for another. He was no hedge mage.
But she didn't have to speculate. She already knew who this was. What this was. And the snarl of her lips told him exactly what she made of that recognition. "Yes, it is. On both accounts. Loki of Asgard."
“Oh, good, no need to introduce myself.” Loki smiled cheerfully at her expression. Why not? He’d no doubt earned her ire somehow. The Chitauri invasion again, some more, no doubt. Or perhaps it was related to the Infinity Stones. “I can’t say I know you, though.” Nor did he intend to apologize for that. Polite apologies were garbage, and he was already sure this woman knew it.
"I intend to use that to my advantage." She smoothed her expression to a more composed (and no less spiteful) glare. Perhaps he was even telling a convenient truth. There were many people plucked from many different worlds and timelines assembled. But even if that was the case, it would be foolish to assume that this Loki would be inherently different in character. "Illyana Nikolaevna Rasputin."
“Charmed.” She wasn’t charmed, clearly, and her name was no more recognizable than she was. But that was nothing. “Any others here I should be aware of?” If she was at all inclined to be helpful, or inclined to be a particular brand of unhelpful, simply asking might get him a list of others with a grudge to be aware of.
"Any other Asgardians? Liars? Shapeshifters? Rasputins?" She questioned him at a scathing clip. Her body language suggested she had no intention of fighting, but her words were bladed. "You'll have to be more specific."
“Let’s start with Asgardians and work our way through the categories,” Loki suggested, perfectly amiably. That was the answer he wanted most, and if he got no others, it would do. If there were any others beyond Thor and a possible Lady Sif, he definitely wanted to know. It was unlikely, but... well, he'd missed a library. Being a kitten had clearly dropped his game.
But there was no point making it obvious that he’d picked Asgardians for any reason other than it had been first. “In alphabetical order, perhaps. I’ll consider B.”
Had he failed to notice that she was openly displeased with his appearance here or did he simply not care?
Illyana forcefully calmed herself (yes, that was possible) and lifted her chin as she looked back at him from under the line of her severe bangs. "I have no reason to want to help you of all people. If we have not met before by your recollection, then I don't see the point in telling you the details as to why." Such as being imprisoned. Enfeebled. Torn in twain and forced to serve. To say nothing of what happened to her team. And all because he and his cohorts were stupid, reckless, and power-hungry.
"Why should I deign to tell you anything at all? I will give you this much, trickster. There is another Asgardian here. And I tell you this only because I take satisfaction in the unrest it will cause you." The line of her lips fashioned a cruel smile. "It is your brother, Thor."
“I imagine I can guess the details, never fear. I’ve no particular desire to hear.” There wasn’t all that much he’d actually done on Midgard. Illyana didn’t seem like a New Mexico type, so New York it had to be. (There was also Stuttgart, but this seemed a bit much of a grudge for what amounted to an extended angry monologue.)
The same self-control that had allowed Loki to hear of his mother’s death and respond with only a calm nod until he was alone took over now. Of course, he'd known that Thor was here. Stark was giddy, and one or the other of them had blown up Stark's room enough to let Loki infest it with mice. But this reaction of a near-stranger was... disconcerting. Based on Liz's early explanation about multiple worlds, and people arriving at the Inn from different times... this was a sudden and unpleasant reminder that there were a great many ways Thor's presence should be considered a negative. An ultimately unavoidable negative. But outwardly nothing changed.
Outwardly, Loki was more interested in the books on the shelves than the presence of his brother. “That would be A, then. For B... I’ve heard there’s a bear in residence?”
Loki was expertly practiced at playing cool and aloof, as if he were above such things as inconvenient emotions regarding his brother. If Illyana were anyone else - if she had not been raised in a world where any sign of weakness invited attack, and perhaps even if she did not have a strained and complicated relationship with Piotr - she might have thought that the information had missed its mark. But she was herself, and there were tiny tells, nearly imperceptible flaws in his facade. She was no better fooled by Loki's acting than she had been by his illusory magic.
"If you want to know, then why don't you simply go back to pantomiming a kitten and continue to stumble around the grounds gathering half-information?" She moved behind the desk, dismissively reaching for a stack of new materials gathered in the European Otherworld that still awaited intake processing. "There are tummy rubs and litter boxes along that line of investigation," she reminded, very dryly.
"I could." Loki shrugged. "It's been effective enough thus far." An effective enough cover to work from, until he was prepared enough to take on all comers by being fully himself. "But as you've clearly noticed, I do enjoy the sound of my own voice. I'm inclined to take advantage of the fact that it's currently available to me."
"I find your voice less impressive than you do." She swept the curtain of her blonde hair over her shoulder and out of her way before she opened a large ledger book and began to write across the cells on the pages. "Have you come to terms with being imprisoned here yet?"
Fortunately, he didn't need other people to enjoy his voice, at least some of the time. That a severe blonde sorceress didn't appreciate him didn't exactly break the God of Mischief's heart.
"I've spent a fair amount of time imprisoned." Loki took one of the books off the shelf and opened it, to flip through a few pages. Mmm, books. "As they go, this is far from the worst." The Isle of Silence was the worst, though Odin's dungeon without his mother's occasional visits would certainly have surpassed it for awful in short order. "Why, do you find it intolerable somehow?"
"Not at all. I know how to bide my time," Illyana continued to attend her task. "And this is hardly a soul-crushing hellscape."
"Then we're agreed. Isn't that lovely." Perhaps it would rankle her to be in agreement of any kind with him, perhaps it wouldn't, but Loki smiled anyway. "So, the bear?"
"What about the bear?" She wondered why he seemed to care so much about the animal. Perhaps it was only with the goal of getting her to play along with his games that the creature called Trinket mattered, not the subject itself. "He is in fact a naturally born animal, if that's your concern. Not a schemer, a lurker, or a coward in disguise."
"Truly, it was the only B I could think of that I had any curiosity at all about." If she was trying to be insulting with the litany of descriptions at the end, well - he was a schemer and a lurker, and knew himself to be far from a coward. Cowards, after all, didn't fight brothers who could turn them into squishy messes, or sass Odin while standing before him in chains with execution on the table. "It's not always deep and treacherous schemes."
Illyana wasn't particularly concerned about the accuracy of her characterization. She did not forgive grudges lightly, and she certainly did not forget them, events such as death and rebirth notwithstanding. If he wanted to be perceived differently here, by her, then the onus was on him. "How ironic, coming from you."
"Which part?" Loki laid a private bet that she was referring to his use of the word 'truly'. Which would be fair enough, most of the time.
"I thought you had become so bored by life that you had nothing left to strive for than your 'deep and treacherous schemes,'" she clarified, setting down her pen.
Loki actually stared at her blankly for a moment, then laughed and shook his head. "Mortals. If you didn't annoy me so often, I'd almost see why my brother thinks you're so cute." Outside of imprisonment, he'd never been bored. Loki of Asgard made his own fun, always.
She made no attempt to restrain herself from rolling her eyes. She'd heard the oh puny mortals bombast for practically her entire life. It was tiresome. "If the matters of mortals annoy you so greatly, perhaps you would do better to leave us well enough alone. But you won't. For the simple reason that you need us, if only to keep yourselves entertained."
She wasn't even wholly convinced that the Asgardians or other gods were immortal in the strictest sense. But neither did she have an invested interest in finding out. For now.
"I do tend to enjoy being annoyed," Loki agreed readily, "but if we're interested in precision, I actually haven't had much to do with your people. In the last century or so there was... New Mexico, Stuttgart, and New York. And only the latter two were actually aimed at Midgard." New Mexico had been squarely aimed at Thor.
Illyana took the first book from her stack at the desk and cast the minor spell that would tie it in with the protective magic woven between all library materials, cataloging it in the supernatural sense before setting it aside and reaching for the next. "I expect you'll have much more to do with many fewer mortals for now. I recommend that you try to keep the pain and suffering you cause in these close quarters to a minimum."
"I doubt you'd believe me if I made any such promise or agreement." Not least because it would already be a lie; he'd already sown some pain and confusion in a kitten's wake. And, oddly, helped to ease some, but everyone knew that didn't count. "Any plans would have to wait until I can see a way out again, though, so plans are not currently in my interest."
She shrugged. "I have no reason to trust what you say, and every reason to be suspicious of you and your motives. If you have an interest in improving your reputation, that will become clear in due time. Once you've tired of passing yourself off as a furball."
Loki honestly didn't care about his reputation. There were few ways it could get worse, after all, and virtually no chance of improvement no matter what he did or didn't do. It was the hard lesson of most of his life: Loki would never be good enough, so there was no point trying. Might as well just do what he wanted. "Now, I'd have thought you'd approve of me rendering myself harmless for peaceful observation rather trying to learn by doing."
"You're hardly harmless," she countered, gradually making her way through enchanting the new books. Wearing a mask certainly didn't neutralize him as a potential threat. "Although you are less insufferable as a kitten. You talk less."
"Exactly the part that aggravates me." Loki shook his head and replaced the book on the shelf. Yes, in the correct place. One had to be in the right mood for that particular level of pettiness. "But I do have things to do, so I'd best get back to them." Without waiting for acknowledgement, he shifted back into kitten shape and stretched.
"Try not to get eaten by the bear." She glanced up at his shift, pausing in her work to acknowledge him one last time as he went. "If you gave him indigestion, it would cause unrest."
Loki just purred on his way out in lieu of laughing, opening the door for himself with a little telekinesis. She knew he could do it, no need to pretend he needed someone to open the door for him.
Kitty should know about this particular new arrival, Illyana considered, resuming her business with the books as Loki showed himself out. She had been involved in the business on Asgard, after all. As to Thor, and the others... Thor was always a bit over-enthusiastic for her liking, and they weren't well acquainted. Perhaps she would let that play out in its own time.
Or perhaps she would wait for the right opportunity to make Loki regret the whole kitten farce. That rather depended on how long it would take him to reveal himself for who and what he truly was, didn't it?
This place was... not like that. Add in the fact that his perspective was much closer to the ground than he was used to, and his usual ability to know where he was and how to get elsewhere had taken a sharp nosedive.
So he wandered the halls when he could avoid both Stark and Liz, occasionally jumping on hall furniture or craning his neck to read room numbers and memorize their placement. It was horrifyingly manual, but it was the best he could do. On the bright side, he believed that he was mostly done.
To all superficial appearances, a black kitten with large green eyes was capering about aimlessly. There could hardly be a more generally harmless and adorable creature for the given place and time.
Illyana Rasputin did not generally deal in superficial appearances. She dealt in magic, and force of will, which was the essential component that powered all magic. And so illusory or transmutation magic being used to conceal a being's true form - even a very powerful being, even if she could not readily see behind their veil - was not lightly obscured from her piercing scrutiny. The newcomer would have done as well to hide its nature from her notice by throwing a blanket over their head.
She stopped in place on her passage through the hallway to watch the 'kitten' romping along for some minutes much as a patient predator would track the movements of its prey, eyes narrowed, attention focused, expression otherwise impassive. "You look ridiculous," she told the creature aloud.
Loki flicked an ear. Then, just to double down because of course he was ridiculous, he was a kitten, he rolled his whole body in a bizarrely lopsided somersault to turn himself around to face the new arrival. Instead of, you know, just turning on his feet like a sensible creature. Then he mewed, the cutest squeakiest noise he could manage.
If you're going to commit to something, commit.
Faced with the objectively adorable display, the sorceress moved closer. Not close enough that he could reach her with a lunge, but close enough that she could stare down at him from where she stood and challenge his gaze directly with her own. "No. You will not buy me so cheaply, so stupidly, with a pathetic squirm and a mewl. I see through your sham, and I don't trust you. You are no better than a pest." Her voice lowered intently, and she purposefully bit off each word. "You. Are. Not. Cute."
Loki had always enjoyed a challenge; the best tricks were always the more difficult ones, and sometimes even being found out was entertaining. The fact that this woman - who had to be some sort of sorceress, to know so quickly that he was play-acting - was challenging him so directly was unspeakably charming. Especially so since she didn't actually seem to have anything against him personally, only against the play-acting.
Of course, he wasn't going to give in immediately, either. He'd heard worse, and he was, in fact, very cute. "Mew?"
Illyana would have argued that 'cuteness' was contextual. Yes, the present form he danced about featured infant-like large, wide eyes, tiny noises, soft fur and seemingly clumsy movements that were engineered to take advantage of human impulses to nurture their young. But Illyana was hardly as susceptible as an unwitting teenage human girl. Where she came from, the young and weak were eaten. And he was no kitten.
Yet it was just as clear to her that he did not intend to admit when he had been caught out. Not here and not now.
"Hn. As you will." Eventually, his deception would become problematic. She would not hesitate to reveal what she knew to others at such a time. Yet she supposed there was little harm in allowing him to continue as he would for the time being, especially given that she would be paying great attention to what he did about the Inn.
Illyana rose, and walked briskly over him in a single stride, continuing on her way down the hall. "When you decide to stop debasing yourself with this farce," she told the kitten, "I can be found in the library."
This place had a library? All the exploring he'd done and he'd somehow missed a library? While it would have been unlikely to have anything worth reading in Loki's view under most circumstances (at least, nothing worth reading that he hadn't read before), the fact that this unusual person was involved with it meant... maybe he'd be surprised.
Regardless, Loki missed books. Odin had never been much of a reader, which meant it had been years since he'd had much opportunity.
It took only a few seconds of consideration before he decided that the lure of written words overcame a need to be particular about a guise that had already cracked a few times in oddball ways. It was possible that she'd be reasonable and let him keep his secrets provided she was excepted from them... and if not, well. Loki had dealt with mortals before. So yes, fuck it, books > diminishing returns on personal concealment.
He bounced off after her, following closely at her heels.
Although Illyana was well aware that the form of a tiny fluffy beast was bumbling after her, she did not mark the company. She continued onward, quite as she would have without the diminutive feline shadow, until she reached the open doors of the library and passed through them for the circulation desk. She was mildly interested in what if anything the 'kitten' might make of the magic knitting the library together. It would, however, require that he communicate more effectively than he had done thus far.
The mishmash of spells on the 'library' was decidedly impressive. Nothing about the enchantments looked Asgardian, which was decidedly good to know and information that would have been difficult to get any other way. There were elements both familiar and unfamiliar about the rest, and not just because most of the spells appeared to be protective, and that had never really been Loki's particular wheelhouse. He could do it, of course, but other things were easier. And even a cursory glance from kitten level showed that the books weren't just from Midgard.
Decent books were worth the risk inherent in showing himself before he fully understood his situation, and under normal circumstances any illusions he cast to hide himself could be made to blend in with the rest of the area. (Circumventing the abjurations would be harder, but there was no reason to try it at present.) Decision made, Loki shifted into his own shape - with the black suit he'd been wearing in New York, because what the hell, this was still something like Midgard. "Lovely work, here. I assume it's at least partly yours?"
The true form of the kitten reminded Illyana vaguely of the sullen half-elf that dressed in feathers, as if always attending a flamboyant funeral. They were both of them pale of skin and dark of wardrobe, trim and slender in build, and more pretty than she cared for in a man. But this particular man had far greater pride, for one. The invisible magical energy roiling off of him was hardly secondhand, for another. He was no hedge mage.
But she didn't have to speculate. She already knew who this was. What this was. And the snarl of her lips told him exactly what she made of that recognition. "Yes, it is. On both accounts. Loki of Asgard."
“Oh, good, no need to introduce myself.” Loki smiled cheerfully at her expression. Why not? He’d no doubt earned her ire somehow. The Chitauri invasion again, some more, no doubt. Or perhaps it was related to the Infinity Stones. “I can’t say I know you, though.” Nor did he intend to apologize for that. Polite apologies were garbage, and he was already sure this woman knew it.
"I intend to use that to my advantage." She smoothed her expression to a more composed (and no less spiteful) glare. Perhaps he was even telling a convenient truth. There were many people plucked from many different worlds and timelines assembled. But even if that was the case, it would be foolish to assume that this Loki would be inherently different in character. "Illyana Nikolaevna Rasputin."
“Charmed.” She wasn’t charmed, clearly, and her name was no more recognizable than she was. But that was nothing. “Any others here I should be aware of?” If she was at all inclined to be helpful, or inclined to be a particular brand of unhelpful, simply asking might get him a list of others with a grudge to be aware of.
"Any other Asgardians? Liars? Shapeshifters? Rasputins?" She questioned him at a scathing clip. Her body language suggested she had no intention of fighting, but her words were bladed. "You'll have to be more specific."
“Let’s start with Asgardians and work our way through the categories,” Loki suggested, perfectly amiably. That was the answer he wanted most, and if he got no others, it would do. If there were any others beyond Thor and a possible Lady Sif, he definitely wanted to know. It was unlikely, but... well, he'd missed a library. Being a kitten had clearly dropped his game.
But there was no point making it obvious that he’d picked Asgardians for any reason other than it had been first. “In alphabetical order, perhaps. I’ll consider B.”
Had he failed to notice that she was openly displeased with his appearance here or did he simply not care?
Illyana forcefully calmed herself (yes, that was possible) and lifted her chin as she looked back at him from under the line of her severe bangs. "I have no reason to want to help you of all people. If we have not met before by your recollection, then I don't see the point in telling you the details as to why." Such as being imprisoned. Enfeebled. Torn in twain and forced to serve. To say nothing of what happened to her team. And all because he and his cohorts were stupid, reckless, and power-hungry.
"Why should I deign to tell you anything at all? I will give you this much, trickster. There is another Asgardian here. And I tell you this only because I take satisfaction in the unrest it will cause you." The line of her lips fashioned a cruel smile. "It is your brother, Thor."
“I imagine I can guess the details, never fear. I’ve no particular desire to hear.” There wasn’t all that much he’d actually done on Midgard. Illyana didn’t seem like a New Mexico type, so New York it had to be. (There was also Stuttgart, but this seemed a bit much of a grudge for what amounted to an extended angry monologue.)
The same self-control that had allowed Loki to hear of his mother’s death and respond with only a calm nod until he was alone took over now. Of course, he'd known that Thor was here. Stark was giddy, and one or the other of them had blown up Stark's room enough to let Loki infest it with mice. But this reaction of a near-stranger was... disconcerting. Based on Liz's early explanation about multiple worlds, and people arriving at the Inn from different times... this was a sudden and unpleasant reminder that there were a great many ways Thor's presence should be considered a negative. An ultimately unavoidable negative. But outwardly nothing changed.
Outwardly, Loki was more interested in the books on the shelves than the presence of his brother. “That would be A, then. For B... I’ve heard there’s a bear in residence?”
Loki was expertly practiced at playing cool and aloof, as if he were above such things as inconvenient emotions regarding his brother. If Illyana were anyone else - if she had not been raised in a world where any sign of weakness invited attack, and perhaps even if she did not have a strained and complicated relationship with Piotr - she might have thought that the information had missed its mark. But she was herself, and there were tiny tells, nearly imperceptible flaws in his facade. She was no better fooled by Loki's acting than she had been by his illusory magic.
"If you want to know, then why don't you simply go back to pantomiming a kitten and continue to stumble around the grounds gathering half-information?" She moved behind the desk, dismissively reaching for a stack of new materials gathered in the European Otherworld that still awaited intake processing. "There are tummy rubs and litter boxes along that line of investigation," she reminded, very dryly.
"I could." Loki shrugged. "It's been effective enough thus far." An effective enough cover to work from, until he was prepared enough to take on all comers by being fully himself. "But as you've clearly noticed, I do enjoy the sound of my own voice. I'm inclined to take advantage of the fact that it's currently available to me."
"I find your voice less impressive than you do." She swept the curtain of her blonde hair over her shoulder and out of her way before she opened a large ledger book and began to write across the cells on the pages. "Have you come to terms with being imprisoned here yet?"
Fortunately, he didn't need other people to enjoy his voice, at least some of the time. That a severe blonde sorceress didn't appreciate him didn't exactly break the God of Mischief's heart.
"I've spent a fair amount of time imprisoned." Loki took one of the books off the shelf and opened it, to flip through a few pages. Mmm, books. "As they go, this is far from the worst." The Isle of Silence was the worst, though Odin's dungeon without his mother's occasional visits would certainly have surpassed it for awful in short order. "Why, do you find it intolerable somehow?"
"Not at all. I know how to bide my time," Illyana continued to attend her task. "And this is hardly a soul-crushing hellscape."
"Then we're agreed. Isn't that lovely." Perhaps it would rankle her to be in agreement of any kind with him, perhaps it wouldn't, but Loki smiled anyway. "So, the bear?"
"What about the bear?" She wondered why he seemed to care so much about the animal. Perhaps it was only with the goal of getting her to play along with his games that the creature called Trinket mattered, not the subject itself. "He is in fact a naturally born animal, if that's your concern. Not a schemer, a lurker, or a coward in disguise."
"Truly, it was the only B I could think of that I had any curiosity at all about." If she was trying to be insulting with the litany of descriptions at the end, well - he was a schemer and a lurker, and knew himself to be far from a coward. Cowards, after all, didn't fight brothers who could turn them into squishy messes, or sass Odin while standing before him in chains with execution on the table. "It's not always deep and treacherous schemes."
Illyana wasn't particularly concerned about the accuracy of her characterization. She did not forgive grudges lightly, and she certainly did not forget them, events such as death and rebirth notwithstanding. If he wanted to be perceived differently here, by her, then the onus was on him. "How ironic, coming from you."
"Which part?" Loki laid a private bet that she was referring to his use of the word 'truly'. Which would be fair enough, most of the time.
"I thought you had become so bored by life that you had nothing left to strive for than your 'deep and treacherous schemes,'" she clarified, setting down her pen.
Loki actually stared at her blankly for a moment, then laughed and shook his head. "Mortals. If you didn't annoy me so often, I'd almost see why my brother thinks you're so cute." Outside of imprisonment, he'd never been bored. Loki of Asgard made his own fun, always.
She made no attempt to restrain herself from rolling her eyes. She'd heard the oh puny mortals bombast for practically her entire life. It was tiresome. "If the matters of mortals annoy you so greatly, perhaps you would do better to leave us well enough alone. But you won't. For the simple reason that you need us, if only to keep yourselves entertained."
She wasn't even wholly convinced that the Asgardians or other gods were immortal in the strictest sense. But neither did she have an invested interest in finding out. For now.
"I do tend to enjoy being annoyed," Loki agreed readily, "but if we're interested in precision, I actually haven't had much to do with your people. In the last century or so there was... New Mexico, Stuttgart, and New York. And only the latter two were actually aimed at Midgard." New Mexico had been squarely aimed at Thor.
Illyana took the first book from her stack at the desk and cast the minor spell that would tie it in with the protective magic woven between all library materials, cataloging it in the supernatural sense before setting it aside and reaching for the next. "I expect you'll have much more to do with many fewer mortals for now. I recommend that you try to keep the pain and suffering you cause in these close quarters to a minimum."
"I doubt you'd believe me if I made any such promise or agreement." Not least because it would already be a lie; he'd already sown some pain and confusion in a kitten's wake. And, oddly, helped to ease some, but everyone knew that didn't count. "Any plans would have to wait until I can see a way out again, though, so plans are not currently in my interest."
She shrugged. "I have no reason to trust what you say, and every reason to be suspicious of you and your motives. If you have an interest in improving your reputation, that will become clear in due time. Once you've tired of passing yourself off as a furball."
Loki honestly didn't care about his reputation. There were few ways it could get worse, after all, and virtually no chance of improvement no matter what he did or didn't do. It was the hard lesson of most of his life: Loki would never be good enough, so there was no point trying. Might as well just do what he wanted. "Now, I'd have thought you'd approve of me rendering myself harmless for peaceful observation rather trying to learn by doing."
"You're hardly harmless," she countered, gradually making her way through enchanting the new books. Wearing a mask certainly didn't neutralize him as a potential threat. "Although you are less insufferable as a kitten. You talk less."
"Exactly the part that aggravates me." Loki shook his head and replaced the book on the shelf. Yes, in the correct place. One had to be in the right mood for that particular level of pettiness. "But I do have things to do, so I'd best get back to them." Without waiting for acknowledgement, he shifted back into kitten shape and stretched.
"Try not to get eaten by the bear." She glanced up at his shift, pausing in her work to acknowledge him one last time as he went. "If you gave him indigestion, it would cause unrest."
Loki just purred on his way out in lieu of laughing, opening the door for himself with a little telekinesis. She knew he could do it, no need to pretend he needed someone to open the door for him.
Kitty should know about this particular new arrival, Illyana considered, resuming her business with the books as Loki showed himself out. She had been involved in the business on Asgard, after all. As to Thor, and the others... Thor was always a bit over-enthusiastic for her liking, and they weren't well acquainted. Perhaps she would let that play out in its own time.
Or perhaps she would wait for the right opportunity to make Loki regret the whole kitten farce. That rather depended on how long it would take him to reveal himself for who and what he truly was, didn't it?