strangetrip | [EP] Community service for some reason

That morning, Loki had finally gotten around to the piece of paper he'd been handed along with his room key, and... well, it was definitely interesting. Apparently not checking in for two weeks in favor of scouting the Inn as a kitten meant that he'd been involuntarily assigned to 'community service' in the infirmary.

It was ridiculous. He wasn't a healer. Oh, ~~his mother~~ ~~Frigga~~ his mother had tried to teach him healing magic, and the theory had been easy enough, but barring one or two minor successes healing his brother of minor injuries, the practical had always escaped him. Eventually his mother had removed healing from his lessons, and not long after that Loki himself had stopped trying.

It was ridiculous.

It didn't matter, though, where he did his reading and thinking, and at least waving vaguely in the direction of being productive would probably very slightly soothe the fears of anyone who thought he, for example, made a habit out of flinging people out of windows. (He'd only done that once. It wasn't a habit.)

Therefore he swung by the library, relieved it of all the medical texts a quick rummage presented, hauled the books to the clininc, and staked out a desk area more or less out of the way. As nearly as he could tell, anyway; regardless, a small wall made of books hopefully separated him nicely from anyone looking for help.

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"Can't it be both?" It was neither. "Should you happen to spill coffee on any of the books, you'll already be suffering when the lovely Illyana gets at you."

Tony rolled his eyes, but slowly retracted the thermos, air-tight as it was. "Great bedside manner. I am strictly here seeking service, for the record."

"Oh really? What's the problem?" Really? Stark of all people knew that Loki was not a healer. But if the man wanted to play, Loki was willing.

Gesturing at the still-present (though faded) bruise hugging the outer half of his left eye, Tony dropped his hand with a sigh. "Frankly, I'm sick of looking at this thing. That's it."

Usually, Tony had makeup artists back home to take care of all the cuts and scrapes for public appearances.

Loki actually looked up to see the bruise. "It is a blemish." It would be gone on its own in a couple of days, most likely. Clearly nothing was broken. "Have you considered going to the spa and trying to talk someone there out of some concealer?"

"I know what I'm looking for." Tony replied evenly, staring right through the new 'physician.' "Can you help me, or is a blemish too much for your mighty sorcery. I'm in severe emotional distress over this thing."

"It's practically nothing." Loki watched Stark with an actual flicker of interest. "Are you seriously telling me you're willing to let me put a spell on you because cosmetics are effort?"

"Like Screamin' Jay Hawkins." Tony quirked his head a few inches to the side, bouncing expectantly on his heels. "Well?"

"Fine." Loki didn't mutter magic words, wave his hand, or outwardly do anything at all except return his attention to his book. Illusions were his specialty, and one as small and simple as that? He barely had to think. Between one second and the next, the bruise disappeared.

It was actually still there, of course. Stark wanted makeup, not healing. Which was good, because once more: not a healer. "Come back tomorrow, it'll need to be recast daily until it's not needed anymore."

Tony fell back straight on his heels and touched his face with his forefingers, squinting. It didn't hurt, and he didn't catch the reflection of it in the reflection of his glasses.

"Walk me through what you just did?"

"Why? It worked, didn't it?" The simplest things impressed humans, really.

Tony began prodding at it a bit harder, as if he were a feline inspecting a mystery object. "Cabbage isn't gonna sprout from if it gets wet or something, right?"

What?

Now it was practically a duty to mess with Stark. "It's not deep enough for cabbage. Grass at the most." Still Loki didn't look up from his book. "I recommend staying away from horses if that worries you."

Tony cast a mildly concerned look at the trickster as he massaged his skin. Had it really cleared up just like that? He doubted it.

"You're adorable."

"Awww. My brother will be so glad we're getting along." Loki didn't roll his eyes, he just let the sarcasm speak for him. Even though Thor would be glad if they got along. Because he was a sentimental ass. "It's not gone, I set an illusion on you. It won't last longer than twenty-four hours, so unless you want your black eye again tomorrow, come back."

"This illusion work on everyone or just me?" Tony was simply playing with his own face by this point, feeling for lumps or other suspect protrusions.

"Everyone. What's the point of just you?" Loki waited only a second before answering his own question. "Trying to make you look delusional and insane. Ah, well, another time."

"I don't need your help with that." Tony winked, hopping down from the chair. "Hope you got your malpractice lawyer on speed dial, by the way. If I start growing a lawn out of my face, you'll be hearing from mine,"

"If you start growing a lawn out of your face, perhaps you'll remember that we're imprisoned in a fishbowl without lawyers." This was going to be a long period of punishment if Stark intended to turn up every day even after his bruise faded.

"You haven't heard of my fishbowl prison lawyer?" Tony pantomimed a phone gesture at his ear, hopping up in the air to see Loki briefly over the tower of books. "He exists in the same dimension as your sense of humor."

“So you do want plants growing out of your head. I understand. Loki turned a page. “You should have said so from the start.”

"You'll be the first to know when I do." Tony twirled his black thermos around on its clip, making for the door.

"Much obliged, Doc. See you for our follow-up."

[EP] Community service for some reason

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