Summary:Loki finally corners Phobos Log Info:Storyteller: {$storyteller} |
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Alexander Aaron, also known is some circles as Phobos, the Greek god of fear, seems perpetually drawn to dive bars. This one is typical of his usual haunts, and also happens to be not far from his apartment. He's what you might call a regular here, though when he walks in, no-one yells his name in a friendly greeting like you might see in some kind of sit-com. The bartenders know him, they give him his beer, and they watch from a distance. He's always paid up front and never caused any trouble, but there's something off about the guy. The other patrons tend to avoid him, and he most often finds himself shooting pool alone. Tonight is no different, though he's noticeably in a better mood than usual, if anyone were to ask. A half-empty bottle rests one the edge of the table, and he moves around to line up his next shot, taking his time to make sure it's set up juuuuust right. Just a typical evening.
The bartenders don't know him from the next guy, and, upon first impression he might seem a little like the guy one would be safe to make fun of. He's wearing an assymetrical jacket that looks like it came from a mannequin in the fancy side of town, and dark jeans that are fashionably snug. His shoes are long and pointy in the Italian style and all in all, definitely a bit overdressed for the dive bar. Black hair is swept back from his face and nudges his shoulders in waves. But, just before anyone can give him hassle, he walks, exuding a confidence that does not blend well with the surroundings. He scoops up a whiskey from the bar and continues his saunter towards the back where the other god is playing pool by himself. Silvertongue in action, he purrs out a greeting with low undertones of temptation and guile, "It seems to me that the locals think you are too good at this to challenge."
"They're right, but I don't think that's why they won't play against me," Alex says, lifting his eyes to Loki as he approaches. He doesn't say anything about it, but the fact that there's a Japanese katana sheathed across his back might also have something to do with it. He takes the shot, which sees the cue-ball strike the intended solid blue, and into the side pocket it goes. It's not like it was a hard shot, but well made nonetheless. "Are you maybe the exception? Grab a cue, I'll rack 'em," he offers, leaning back up from the table. Cold blue eyes regard the well-dressed man, and he gives a nod of his head toward the collection of pool cues racked not far away.
Loki glides his left hand over a couple of the cues. What he's looking for isn't clear, but he finds it in the third one and lifts it free of the display. His eyes assess the table thoughtfully, but it seems he's played the game before at some point because he doesn't seem lost by the look of it. "An armed man is either looking for trouble…or expecting it. Perhaps that's why. Is there…some reason you think you need it?" He leans the butt of the cue on the ground and taps his first finger where he grips it near the top.
"I'm sure that's at least part of it," Alex replies rather nonchalantly. "Never know when I might need it. I don't expect to need it in a place like this, but it pays to be prepared for the unexpected," he says. Meanwhile, Alex collects the balls he'd pocketed before this new fellow came along, and arranges them in the black plastic rack on the table. "Besides, it's not the kind of thing I can just leave lying around at home." There's a bit of a smirk, and he removes the rack from the balls so Loki can break.
|ROLL| Loki +rolls 1d20 for: 12
The trickster leans over and lines up the break, whacking it with a hard crack of a sound. The balls scatter from there in a shot that seems designed for maximum chaos. "I am looking for something similar that I lost a long time ago. I can sympathize with the desire to…keep special things close at hand. You know…I have been looking for you." His tongue crafts the words specifically to inject an ominous overtone in them, a dance of syllables that come close to being a polite threat. HIs green eyes observe very keenly how the god reacts.
Alex moves around the table, eyeing the balls as they settle in place. "Not many in this world who go out of their way to look for me," he says calmly, setting the cue atop his knuckles to line up his shot. "So who would you be, who seeks out Fear so casually?" He looks up from his shot at Loki directly, and his eyes flash brightly with white light.
Sensing who may initially seem a tall human, Phobos is treated to a broader scope of potential fears in a being that has had thousands of years to cultivate them. The fears themselves are not simple, either. There is a wealth of complexity, such as the sensation of being misunderstood, looked over, but mingled with loneliness, isolation, silence, and on a scale that stretches across centuries of a future yet to come. Snippets of betrayal, his own nature, mingle in the fear-of-many-notes. Creatures and beings may be glimpsed, but they are of cosmic scale, world-enders, hidden in the shadows, on the edges of his fears. Not something to worry about /now/, but perhaps someday. Certainly if he were in a situation with a threatening entity, he might have a more normal fear, but those are the only ones ever-present. "I am Loki, Odinson, of Asgard."
Alexander's eyes fade back to their normal hue and brightness, and he straightens up, setting the pool cue against the table rather than taking his shot. That is a veritable mixed-salad of complicated fears this man possesses; admittedly, this incarnation of the God of Fear hasn't had extensive experience with Asgardians. "And what is it you want, Loki, Odinson, of Asgard? If you've been looking for me, you know who I am, and you know what I am. So I'm left wondering what you think I can do for you, that you'd come looking for me?" The vaguely threatening tone of Loki's initial statement isn't something he can ignore, though. "You sound almost like you've got a bone to pick."
"That depends. You see…/someone/ is trying to start a war among a whole host of various pantheons, which you would have to be blind to have not noticed." Loki runs his hand down his own cue, until its near the middle. "I have two suspects…and you are a member of one of them. So, I thought it would be fun to show up and just see what you have to say about it. You are Fear…and I am Lies…I would rather talk about it than try to figure it out with a hammer or a sword like my brothers."
That causes Phobos to smile. And not disingenuously, either. "I'm not looking for a fight with you or yours, Loki, so talking suits me just fine. I'm aware of this. The Nightfall, or something sinister-sounding like that. They've been invoking the power of several of us.. 'dark gods'. Heard my name got mixed up in it, but it's not /me/. I know WAND was investigating, but they haven't come banging down my door." He shrugs a bit. "You're the first person to seek me out. Not sure if I should be relieved or insulted, if I'm being honest."
"You know…I think its mostly because the people that knew you were around here didn't tell the people who have actually been doing anything. So, it has a name. Nightfall. Do you know anything about it? Do you know why the Olympians haven't been involved at all?" Loki's potentially threatening state definitely eases when Phobos reacts in a calm manner.
"Between you and me, Olympians don't get involved with anything they don't want to get involved in. I don't know much about your people, but from what I gather Asgardians are pretty unique in their desire to -help- humanity with much of anything. Mortals exist for the amusement and pleasure of the gods, that's the general sense I get from my extended family, and I haven't seen much to make me think otherwise about the other pantheons I've had experiences with. Generally speaking, Loki, gods, no matter where they come from, are basically dicks."
Loki makes a soft humming sound and flashes a quick grin. "The reason we have to deal with this is not because of our desires, but its because we have been specifically targetted. This group, Nightfall, has been actively trying to kill my brother, Baldur. So, if not to be involved with humanity, which, obviously you are barely doing, why are you here in the thick of it all? This place smells strongly of humanity." He looks the blond up and down again.
"I'm as involved with humanity as they'll let me be," Phobos says with a shrug. "You're a god of lies, right? Do they believe anything you tell them? I'm a god of fear. By default, they fear me. But I'm half-human. Zeus is my grandfather, but my mother was human." He neglects to mention specifically who his father is; that rarely makes him any friends in deific circles. "So this is as much my place as theirs, the way I see it. I'm not entirely welcome on Olympus, so if I can't live on Earth, where do I go?" Yes, Phobos has some issues. But really, who doesn't? "If you're asking for my help, then ask. If you just wanted to lay a guilt trip on me, I think there are better ways you could have spent your time."
"No…not a guilt trip. And I wasn't initially coming to get your help. I wanted to find out if you were involved. So now the question is…do you want to be?" Loki circles the table, eyeing the balls, and the half-god across from him. "You have a complicated birthright…and you are not alone in that. As you have already observed, once they know who I /am/, they find it difficult to trust me. So…perhaps another outsider like yourself is just the sort of friend I need in this. Also…there are some who are bound to find it highly suspicious and that amuses me."
"Does anyone -want- to be involved? Alright, I'll help you. Got this feeling if I don't, I don't make it off your short-list of suspects." And maybe it earns him some points with the powers that be. And maybe get some other questions answered. "So who's your other candidate for complicity?"
"The Tuatha. Dark Fae…if you are not familiar. They have some terrible creatures that scurry about the universe as well, at their command. They, along with the Olympians, have not been targetted by the attacks, or weighed in, and BOTH are known to have had conflicts with Asgard and the Egyptians." Loki flares out one hand gestures to one side. "This whole thing has nothing to do with humanity. I think it has something to do with gods of light."
Phobos nods as Loki explains. It's not lost on him that he's taking the God of Lies at face value here, but one thing he's not getting from him is a fear of being caught out. "I'll follow your lead, then," he says with an affirming nod.
Loki leans on his pool cue as he studies the god of fear. Curious pair they make…like a real twisted Sherlock and Watson. "Then…give me your phone. I'll put in my number. Here." He pulls out his own and hands it over to the man. Ahhh modern convenience. Of course he accidentally breaks it every week. "How do you like to be called, anyway?"
"Phobos, or Alex," the younger man says, giving both names. Really depends on which aspect of him you're talking to, or what kind of company you're in. He trusts that Loki will understand context. He draws his own phone from his pocket, handing it over to the Asgardian, and takes Loki's from his hand. A few taps, and another few taps, and his contact information is entered. Phone, email. Asgardians use email, right? Of course they do. That done, he hands the phone back. "What about you? Loki, Odinson, of Asgard, sounds a bit of a mouthful. And not too subtle."
"Oh, I like to use Loki. I just do not usually give a last name." Loki taps out his own contact info, though the email seems to be attached to a bookstore in the area called 'Cover Story'. "Most people assume I was simply named after…myself." He grins crookedly. "Just avoid the titles…highness…prince…in public. Unless I am in my outfit, then I am trying to make a show."Loki holds out the phone at arm's length, smiles, takes a picture, then hands back the phone. The entry thus including his picture as part of it. "This…was a productive night after all."
Alex gives a slow nod. "Yeah, not big on titles," he says a bit slowly. Prince? Highness? Please. He's not big on making a show, either, but then, different strokes, right? Who's he to judge. Alex didn't take a picture. If 'Alexander "Phobos" Aaron' as the name and 'God of Fear' as the organization don't make it clear, a photo isn't going to help. They exchange phones, and Alex pockets his once again. "Alright Loki," he says. "Call me if you get any leads. I'll.. I dunno, research." Maybe see if he can't get any more information from reluctant relatives. It's a long shot, though.
Loki nods his head and smiles. "Then, I shall see you rather soon I suspect, Alex." He steps towards the back of the more secluded room and puts the pool cue away. A breath later…and there is simply the faint smell of ice and leather in the air and the man is gone.