capeandcowllogs | From the midnight sun

WHO: Shade and Loki
WHERE: Some spooky castle in Europe!
WHEN: Monday
WARNINGS: Classy bastards
SUMMARY: Shade hunts down Loki...because he can or something
FORMAT: Whatever Alex wants!

The Shade was quite good at hunting down what he wanted. There had been the time with the Spider, and then there had been many a time that a treasure eluded his grasp, only to have the location revealed after his languid self made the effort to step through the shadows enough times to find it. Motivation did odd things to a man.

He wished to speak with Loki. Why? Well, he was interested, more in conversation than anything else. There were people who tended to pique his interest, and a healthy interest he had in Loki. The fair god of mischief had continued to entice Shade, and so, he found his musing Monday filled with a trip around the world, each new location a familiar scene, stepping from one to another, speaking in a coffee shop here, a bookstore there, a small boutique down on a corner in Switzerland. He found himself, eventually, at the entrance of a castle, standing there with a hand on his cane while the snow blew in the mid-evening twilight. High in altitude, the castle was almost picturesque.

And he walked to the entrance with little a thought, although he did politely rap his cane against the high entrance, making his presence known.

Perhaps they would enjoy tea.

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He only responded with a laugh, rich and dark. "I should expect nothing less!" he watched the smile, returning with a far more tight-lipped smile, although it wasn't without a measure of mirth that lit across his face.

"I will admit, however, that I am far more straight forward," although it was, perhaps something of a lie, but it made for the appropriate prompt to leap from. "I found our conversations enjoyable over the network, and I wished to see how a god would live in this world."

"This is not my home, but it is where I live. You will find, perhaps, that I've not the usual notion of warmth." And indeed, the place was cold and dark. But it was light enough for Loki to see by, and heat enough for Loki to feel.

He did not make the same overtures of curiosity, or admissions of enjoyment. But then, if Loki did not want Shade here, there would be actions taken, not words. Instead, Loki was walking down a hallway, towards a cavernous dining room.

Shade, of course, was the sort that had no need for warmth or light. He, of course, enjoyed the creature comforts of such, a roaring fire was perfect ambiance, and light was best to write by, no matter whether he needed it or not. He did enjoy his pretenses perhaps a bit too much. He followed, cane occasionally tapping against the stone with his steps, and he admired the architecture and whatever else happened to be on the wall.

"Indeed I have noticed, but spare it no thought. If I were concerned with the cold, I would have worn my gloves," his tone was so mild, so amused with the prospect, but then again. He wasn't used to people making mention of their oddities anymore. Occasionally, he forgot how the other half lived.

Given that Loki lived this way not only because it suited him, but also because it suited very few mortals.

Nonetheless, he lit a fire with the wave of his hand— the flames traveled to torches hanging round the walls and a hearth without wood. Then he pulled himself a chair, at the end of his own table.

"Let us sit."

In the dull glow of the fire, the Shade's own shadow elongated, a little longer than the average human's would be. He takes the first available seat, sliding into it with an unnatural smoothness, crossing an ankle over his knee smoothly, giving the god a smile.

"I thank you for your hospitality, and tell me, what is it that beings like you do in their spare time?"

"You imply that I've time to spare." Loki did spend many of his hours spinning threads— hatching plans to leave this dimension, searching out new magical byways, plans that always came to naught. That incidence with the Sentry was… unfortunate. In any case, that business was personal, and would not easily be given away.

Loki smiled, crossing one leg. "I watch. There is something very curious in flowers that grow and grow again, knowing they will die in the wintertime."

He laughed, eyebrows lifting only a small amount, and he took his hat off in a sign of politeness. Hats did not belong on at the table, after all. He set it gently on the table, a wan smile on his face. "Ah, and that they do, without end, season after season, life after life," he emphasized the true topic of discussion, not the flowers themselves, but the allegory they represented.

"Do they even know what they are, the brevity of their own existence? Or have they told themselves stories and blinded themselves to the ending?" Loki put his elbows on the table, a quiet but resounding thud.

"I am most curious."

"They are woefully ignorant," he mentioned lightly, leaning back to place his hands neatly into his lap, crossed. "They believe in higher powers, or they live out their days, ignoring the inevitable as it ticks ever slowly closer," he waved a hand, as if it weren't a matter. For him, it wasn't.

"Those who are aware are the ones who continue to look for avenues to escape their fates."

"I think that should be no less difficult than accepting them." Not that Loki himself was very good at that, but no matter.

He could only laugh. "They scale one mountain, and then they are left with another to climb as soon as they reach the apex of the first. It's the futility of the human condition," he drums his fingers against the table absently. "And some simply stumble into the truth."

"What a pity, then, that some things worth searching do not lie at the tops of mountains." He shrugged. It was really no matter to him.

"Indeed not. And yet, occasionally I find that there are some rewards to be found at them," he mentioned with the faintest of smiles. "Such as pleasant conversation."

"Surely you did not come here just for that." Those who sought Loki out before had craved power, or alliance. And with those Loki sought out it was much the same. Loki enjoyed conversation well enough, but he rather despised people.

"Perhaps, perhaps," he mused aloud. The Shade was something of a fickle being. Power, he had in droves. He didn't need it, or immortality, or much of anything. He simply took what he wished to satisfy his desires. No more, and no less. He had a home, a quaint little thing on Long Island. It was not Opal, but there would never be another Opal. Perhaps if Loki were to be able to return him to his prized location, he would do what he had to, anything, but that was for Opal.

For himself? He merely chased the interesting. "I find that I am driven by my interest and desires more than anything else."

"That is true of most," said Loki, now leaning in somewhat conspiratorially, one hand raised idly into a claw. "But only the brave can admit it."

He laughed low, mirroring the lean forward, his hand lying flat on the table in contrast. "Indeed, but I have known far too many whose interests seem to be pure altruism," his smile took on a sharper glint. "The ones who lie on such matters often end up dead."

"And perhaps their death is a mercy to all of us, and thus altruistic after all."

"It could be. After all, it is a reward to not have to suffer such idiots after some time, hm?"

From the midnight sun

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