(no subject)
May. 1st, 2017 04:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
foolyoutwiceThe private chambers in this place are horrible. Oh, they're better than the unfathomable sensation of the wormhole, there's no argument about that. On the other hand, they're just good enough to be--depressing? Loki would almost rather sleep hard under the trees than in this bland impersonal domain of plastic and wood veneer, ugly overhead lighting, and dingy wall-to-wall carpeting.
There's also a piece of Art on the wall. Presumably it's Art. He's been staring at it ever since he woke up: a green footbridge arched over a green pond filled with water-flowers, all surrounded with more green. It's probably peaceful; it reminds him of the swirling lights of the void. Loki amuses himself for a few minutes with substituting other illusory images over it. A painting from Frigga's study. A moving illustration from a book he'd read a hundred times as a child. An image of those same swirling lights that he's been staring at for months, or however long it's been.
Well. He doesn't want to be caught lying around in bed. Thor had proposed (heartily) that they meet for breakfast. You must try this new Midgard drink, brother. They call it coffee! Presumably he'd discovered it in that dusty settlement where the Destroyer had found him. So Loki washes in the cramped bathing room, dresses (one pleasant surprise: fresh clothing, his colors and his styles, in the drawers), and strides down the hall to pound on Thor's door.
Hopefully he's waking him from a luxurious sleep.
There's also a piece of Art on the wall. Presumably it's Art. He's been staring at it ever since he woke up: a green footbridge arched over a green pond filled with water-flowers, all surrounded with more green. It's probably peaceful; it reminds him of the swirling lights of the void. Loki amuses himself for a few minutes with substituting other illusory images over it. A painting from Frigga's study. A moving illustration from a book he'd read a hundred times as a child. An image of those same swirling lights that he's been staring at for months, or however long it's been.
Well. He doesn't want to be caught lying around in bed. Thor had proposed (heartily) that they meet for breakfast. You must try this new Midgard drink, brother. They call it coffee! Presumably he'd discovered it in that dusty settlement where the Destroyer had found him. So Loki washes in the cramped bathing room, dresses (one pleasant surprise: fresh clothing, his colors and his styles, in the drawers), and strides down the hall to pound on Thor's door.
Hopefully he's waking him from a luxurious sleep.
no subject
Date: 2017-05-09 04:29 am (UTC)(That last sally stings -- because, he knows, it's true.)
"If you minded Father's choice so, why did you not say?"
And the thing is: for Thor, it really is that simple.
no subject
Date: 2017-05-09 11:26 am (UTC)"Who would have listened? Father? Ohhh, he made his mind up the day I was--brought home." Not the day I was born. "You? You didn't want to hear it. You could have known any day--any day in a hundred years--if you'd had an ear for anything other than the clash of weapons and the cheering crowds."