Once upon a time, in a land not so far away...
You wake to the feeling of being watched. Of a set of unfamiliar eyes, of warm breath on the back of your neck. A jolt back to the land of the living, and it's gone. No matter how quick you are, how sneaky, the source of the disruption has long since disappeared, so you have no choice but to try and ignore it. To continue on with your day and try to set that moment of strangeness aside.
You eat, drink, speak with others. Perhaps you explore a little. Whatever it is you choose to do for the day, that feeling from the morning won't return. And by the time the sun sets and the moon glows brightly above, you've likely set those moments of strangeness aside. It's not like it's anything new, after all.
It's the same again for the next few days. No better, no worse. Something best ignored, right?
A speck of blood on the doorframe. That wasn't there before, was it?
A snap of twigs in the distance. A crunch of leaves.
Claw marks gouged deeply into the door.
Into the wall above your bed.
Scraps of red fabric, turned darker with blood. Pieces of fur. Of flesh.
Do you run and hide? Do you fight? Whatever you choose, it's definitely time to make sure your body parts aren't scattered next...
...what a horribly big mouth you have.
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Since first waking up on the island, characters have been stuck with that feeling of being watched. It isn't a constant. Isn't more than a few seconds at a time, dotted throughout the day. Investigation has never turned up much, and there's never been any sightings of the cause of it all.
Until now.
Throughout the first half of the week, characters will find themselves suffering from that feeling of being watched on a far more constant basis. Rather than it being a one-off, few seconds occurrence each day, that feeling will last for minutes at a time, and on multiple occasions.
However, it isn't until the fifth day that they'll start stumbling across physical signs of their monitoring. There are claw marks on doors. Spots of blood on the paths outside. A crack of twigs in the forests, or the imprint of bloodied paws in the snow.
Ten days in and those signs start finding their way indoors. Wet footprints, tinged with red. Claw marks in the walls, the floor. Torn sheets and the smell of wet...something. Whatever it is that's been watching you, its finally decided to come and say hello.
Two weeks in and characters will begin to have sightings of the creature, its fur dark and its eyes a glowing yellow. At times it looks like a wolf, prowling in the distance. At other times, it's walking on its hind legs, almost human were it not for the muzzle full of gleaming sharp teeth. Get too close, and it slips away like a shadow, gone between one blink and the next. It decides when to reach out to characters, not the other way round.
It's after characters finally get a good look at the creature that it starts leaving...gifts. Characters will start to find familiar items from their home worlds amidst the mess. The remains of a childhood pet, perhaps. Photographs of loved ones, faces torn almost beyond recognition. It's only once it delivers its final gift that the creature retreats to the trees again: a blood-splattered item of clothing that clearly belongs to the person the character misses the most at the time, alive or dead.
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Ok. Also: Loki: red alarm on, but not running coz he's a stitched bag of insecure pride :)
Thread carefully. I warn you.
Hmm. You aren't a human.
[A guess. He has no idea what she is if he doesn't check. An Asgardian, named in some mockery or in respect--- no. She has Asgardian name, his own at that, however, she, she doesn't feel Asgardian, she- well, if he checked-
Or not.][Loki turns away, seemingly nonchalantly, as if the conversation bored him.]
[But his casual gaze seems no longer so calm and casual, try as he might.]
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"I don't know what I am." She smiles bitterly, though there's no fire to it. "It wasn't information that was deemed necessary." Pulling her hand back, she wraps her arms around herself again. "I didn't get to keep much."
He's seen into her mind, it doesn't seem like there's much point in trying to keep things from him now. "She--SHe didn't want me for who I was, just what I can build. I'm very good at building things."
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[With a projected touch of something akin to pride in his voice, forgetting for a second that some higher power might be observing him, concentrating only now on
attack</> or
defence(Against a goat, son? Pitiful)
Loki grins]
"Amazingly good at destruction. It, it's a gift."
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Bombs are going off inside her mind, no metaphor here either, she can hear the sounds of test bombs echoing in her mind and she's not sure why. She could build such a thing if needed but she doesn't know why she would.
Still, that's not the point, now is it? She's not a mischievous thing, not anymore anyway, but she knows she could tear a city down, given time and tools.
Her fingers twitch again, this time as the old itch to construct rises up in her. SHe's never felt more at home, even in the chaos that she found herself in than when she is creating something.
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"I'm really not sure what's happening, or what's to be done. I don't know if I'm useful here or if maybe this perhaps is a vacation for me. Maybe I should just be grateful. The things here, those things that lurk in the trees, maybe they're not as terrible as the things that are waiting for me to return."
Oops she accidentally broke him for half a second. Don't worry, he bounces fast ;)
Loki glares at her, with sudden spite. Don't ask him why, it's too sudden for him to comprehend right now.
"You're unworthy of wandering around with my name, you madwoman!!"
Caution? Forgotten, lost, thrown to the winds of the wave of soul consuming emotions for him, for a few seconds.
"Don't you dare call yourself Loki! And speaking as if you were a god, too--- I won't let a thief---!! Don't. Dare."
Loki? You okay there, buddy?
"I--" she starts, unsure of what to do. "I'm sorry," she winces. "I'm so sorry, I wasn't trying to--" But she's starting to stumble over her own words and she's shaking a little. "I'm not trying to offend, I'm trying to learn, to help, to--" She digs her nails into her arm, trying to calm herself as her own nerves gangle about inside her.
"I should go."
Is he ever? 1/2
2/2
"Not until you tell me who sent you here to mock me!"
"The name! Tell me their name, who hired you to mock me?!"
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"Please, I just want to leave. I'm not mocking you, I just want to go."
He's slightly embarassed now XD
"Go. Just... don't say you're me, in my hearing, please. Go."
Sorry this took so damn long. It was a crazy week.
"I won't say a word," she offers, her feet taking her further and further from him. "Y-you can have it. You can have all of it. Take it all. Take Loki, whoever that is. Take it all. I'm done with it."
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"Coward. You'd cast it aside so easily? Does nobody call your name out, with pain? Does nobody miss you?"
He does not say, *Is there no Thor in that world, outside that Darkness of yours, shouting at that Darkness? Pitiful.*
"Well then. If you have no self to fight for, give that name up. You're unworthy. At least, that's what F- Odin would say. Ever heard of him?"
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She doesn't know her wife still aches for her. She doesn't remember a revolution she was helping to lead. She doesn't recall any o fit, only the dark that she had been kept in for so long, only the pain and her own cries.
Then he says it, that name that hits her like a punch to the jaw. "Odin," she hisses through a clenched jaw. "She's going to break everything. SHe's going to tear it to pieces and I--" Her fingers flex nails digging into her own skin. "I'm only---She doesn't see a person in me. She tried to pull the person out, keep the information and eat away at everything else. There's not supposed to be a person here. No Loki to be had, and yet..."
She laughs. "My name is all I have some days. Sometimes I don't get that. The name is just a name, call me whatever, I can still break and build and be a creature in the dark."
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Touching HER? I would rather touch the Mind Stone with my bare hands."I suppose that means your relationship with your Father, whoever he- apologies, whoever she is, is a bit strained. My sympathies."
Hmmm.
"Your father - she seems the stern kind, doesn't she? Odin, I mean. Just curious, your father, what is she currently breaking? And did she enlist your help?"