Summary:Loki finds Thor brooding, and attempts to help out. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
Related LogsTheme SongNone |
  |
The weather could be nicer. It's not dismal, entirely, but it is raining. The rain doesn't go a huge distance: it's pretty localized, and recently followed a particular mood of a particularly weather-driven Avenger, Thor.
The exterior of the Avenger's mansion, near the pool, is splattered with raindrops, the pavement showing patterns of sprinkles like a growing Rorschach test of shapes on the previously warm pavement. Bits of steam lift, but things are cooling down fairly rapidly from the arrival of the rain.
Thor is sitting near one of the tables with an umbrella, but has ignored the umbrella, instead lounging in a chair a little bit away from it, allowing the rain to hit him. He's dressed in Midgard casual style - which, for Thor, usually means a little bit like a homeless person or someone that went hiking into the bushes, not a prince of Asgard. He's poking at his phone with an expression of deep annoyance, holding the small device in both broad hands. He does pause to shove his snackfood under the umbrella's protection on the table: nobody likes moist pretzels.
Thor has been out of the public eye for perhaps a month. He'd disappeared during a brawl, and simply fell off of radar, but the style of twisting rain above him, a flutter of electrical presence there that doesn't make sense with the weather, is a shout-out, to those that KNOW, about where Thor actually may be.
Loki knows the storm. He knows the exact type of storm that is Thor. The way his cloud swirls. Everything about it. So, the moment he hears it from down the street, he knows. He absolutely uses his teleportation to get him onto the grounds of the mansion. And though the mansion is still /alerted/ to his invasion, it doesn't warrant the alarms going off, due to a standing arrangement. He stands back from Thor for a few moments, watching him, reviewing the situation before he's totally in it. He's felt lightning enough to not want to feel it again. Then, he approaches from a practical angle. "Thor…dearest brother…your phone will stop working if you let it get too wet. I lost one that way myself."
Thor clearly didn't know he was there at first, he settled one elbow on a knee, jaw plopped onto his raised wrist and palm, while still trying to drive the phone one-handed. It isn't better one handed, and he almost drops it. Not out of being startled: just from not being good with it.
There isn't really a surprised reaction to Loki turning up out of nowhere; Thor smiles, though, and answers without looking, "It might be improved; better as a brick than a communication device," Thor chuckles. He then turns his head, looking Loki over; it isn't hostile at all. The mood is more of a reserved pleasure: he knows better than to actually be happy to see Loki without more information.
"It is good to see you, brother."
Loki is dressed in the Asgard style, but informal, with a deep green tunic with unnecessary detailing, black pants, and supple boots. His middling length black hair is a little curlier than usual, due to the rain. "It is. I have missed you a great deal. I kept trying to get your attention in some ways." He forms a subtle and crooked grin. "But," he gestures upwards, "I get the sense that something is troubling you…" He slinks over to sit nearby, a familiar posturing from palace life.
Thor's blonde brows lift in surprise. "What signals have I missed?" Thor asks, direct as always. He turns his chair, by lifting it up and spinning it, instead of scraping it. Some long scrapes on the pavement suggest he learned that possibly really recently. "Perhaps you did not try very hard?" Thor teases. "Not that I would say you are always too subtle." Knives are not very subtle.
"I was troubled." There's a weighty pause, as Thor attempts to mask, and pretend things are fine. Thor isn't a good liar, and it is very obvious - let alone to Loki, who can read Thor brilliantly, no doubt. "But I have pretzels now." He snares the bowl and extends it across, sharing with a warm (if forced) smile.
Loki reaches out to take a pretzel as he willingly lets his hair go to shit in the moisture. "Mmmhmm. Well, I did attempt to join the Avengers. I thought that might do it. Then, I faked killing Balder…that you did notice I believe. And I've been doing heroic things." Green eyes look the man up and down thoughtfully. "You are /still/ troubled. But, you know that father will forgive you soon enough. He should forgive /all/ his sons."
Thor's hair is just fine despite moisture. It's a thunder god thing. Maybe even better this way. Unaware, Thor rakes his fingers back through it, and tosses out a laugh. "Well, I'm glad to hear about heroism. I love a good heroic tale," Thor reminds with a broad wink.
"Father does not work on the timeline we would most like," Thor does grump, as the reason he's upset is so easily identified. "I will earn this, though. I always do." Thor chomps a handful of pretzels, with a self-assured nod. He's convincing himself, as well as Loki, perhaps.
"I know that you will. And..for what its worth, I would like to help you. Father /is/ vulnerable to selfless acts. Normally I would say that simply wearing what you are wearing is a selfless act…" Loki teases fondly. "Where is it at, anyway? I am certain he put it around here somewhere to bother you."
Is this a trap? Thor looks a little uncertain, but willing, as usual, to try to believe the best of Loki. And without evidence that it is something that could be bad, Thor's upbeat about the situation overall. "Something is wrong with my attire?" Thor asks, first, looking down at himself. The jeans are barely hanging on for dear life, and the arms on his jacket are a little short. It probably wouldn't zip shut. He doesn't see an issue, so he sort of shrugs, and eats another fist of pretzels.
"It is nearby, yes," Thor grants. Thunder grumbles overhead, proving the true core of Thor's upset is, naturally, related to the proximity of the hammer.