imdb flu continues

[never_promised]

Loki (forget Harry Monmouth, this is Loki and he's going to keep on being Loki as long as he can) has set up a fortress of...something...at a table near the bar. A fortress of sciencey magic? Special-effectsy junk? Hot drinks and a growing pile of tissues? He wouldn't do this in public if he didn't have to, but this body is sick enough that going back and forth just a few feet between the table and the Bar is exhausting. Definitely not going to be hauling things upstairs to his room.

And what are all these things? Besides the hot drinks and tissues, it's odds and ends that are as close to Asgardian magic tech as he can get out of the Bar. (Sometimes he gets the feeling she's just being stubborn. Come on, what does she mean she can't give him a thoughtmirror crystal? It's a simple request! Ugggh, he doesn't have time to reinvent millennia of technological research.) But even for someone well-versed in Asgardian tech it might be a confusing jumble. That's...probably because he's working on two or three things at once, most of it camouflage for his real project.

Oh. And he's found time to upgrade his style. Can't do much about the hair, but he's gotten rid of the beard. And he's in green and black. It's funny how losing your ability to cast illusions makes you that much more attached to looking like your true self.

Comments

[heatherandsteel]

Quentin is only partly awake when he enters and sees the pile of magic looking things and wanders over, "What are you working on?"

His disguise is down showing his pointed ears and he dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, there are chores to do that require daylight.

[never_promised]

"Things," he answers shortly. "Here, hold this, and keep it pointed towards me."

It's a piece of glass, or something like it.

[heatherandsteel]

He takes it and holds it but carefully as he looks skeptically at the set up, "Magic things?"

[never_promised]

"Mmm. Now, keep very still..."

He's picked up piece to match Quentin's, this one wired into some kind of contraption, and presses a button. Energy zaps between the two pieces of glass, but only for a fraction of a second before fizzing into nothing but a faint whiff of ozone. Loki frowns. But at least the boy there wasn't killed on the spot, that's a promising sign.

"...Yes. Magic things, you could call it that."

[heatherandsteel]

That wasn't a good sign to have something zapping like that and he gives Loki a look, "Then what would you call it?"

[never_promised]

"'Magic' will do." He reaches to take back the glass, and finally gives Quentin a looking over. "Why, are you from one of those realms that thinks there's a difference between magic and science?"

[heatherandsteel]

"No, but I like knowing what I'm holding and not being someone's experiment,"

He's had enough times of learning what he has to do as he's doing it thanks to someone's spell.

[never_promised]

"My, aren't you plucky and assertive. Don't worry, you're not my experiment, you're just--"

Ugh. He's interrupted by his own sneezing fit.

[heatherandsteel]

At the sneeze, Quentin backs up a step though he still gets hit by some, "Plucky, I didn't know anyone still used that word, but finish your sentence. What am I?"

[mjolnir_retriever]

Thor is staying at Milliways for the duration of this... whatever it is.

For one thing, he does not want to bring an illness like this back to Asgard. It's magical in nature, so it might even affect Asgardian bodies, though he's not feeling any effects yet. (A certain slight scratchiness of the throat, actually, but he hasn't entirely noticed that -- it's not the kind of self-monitoring Thor usually has cause to do -- and what he has noticed, he's chalked up to emotion.) For another thing: he will not abandon Loki. Even a reflection of an echo of Loki.

Everything is still wrong, but at least his brother -- despite all the differences -- is looking more like he ought to, instead of wearing Earth fashions in red.

So here's a hand on Loki's shoulder in affectionate greeting, as Thor peers at the fort of tissues and... stuff. He understands maybe two-thirds of what all this even is, and only a fraction of what Loki's trying to do with it.

If Thor were somebody else -- somebody given to indirect conversation, and oblique approaches, and guile -- he might start out with What's all this, brother?, or inquiries about he's feeling, or something like that. Because he's Thor, what he says is, "Loki, we must talk."

It's not accusatory! (Yet.) Just grave.

[never_promised]

It sounds accusatory to Loki, but then he's good at hearing the worst. Still, he pulls up a smile. "It's lovely to see you too, Thor. Did you have a nice storm?"

[mjolnir_retriever]

It's so Loki that Thor finds himself smiling back. That light, dry brotherly mockery -- how he's missed it, for months.

And yes, all right, he'll let himself be deflected for a moment. "What are you doing with this?"

[never_promised]

"At the moment? I'm trying to recreate something our grandfathers worked out long before we were born. It would be easier with a little power of my own."

He waves at a pile of metal. "Can you spare a vambrace?"

[mjolnir_retriever]

Thor looks down thoughtfully at Loki: Harry Monmouth's face and hair, Loki's mind, Loki's expressions, the green and black that will always say Loki. On his vambraces, now, is a horned motif, in memory and in mourning and in a private reminder of the faint chance for hope.

"If you need one."

"But brother, we need to speak."

Does the vambrace-borrowing experiment, for example, really have to happen right this second?

[never_promised]

"I need the specific alloy used to plate it. Just a few shavings will do."

...But that seems to be about as much as Thor can be put off. Loki folds his hands in his lap, a dutiful listener. "Well? I'm listening."

[mjolnir_retriever]

Sure, whatever, a few shavings of the alloy. Loki is welcome to scrape a few shavings off the edge of his vambrace or something.

There's the old spark of irritation at Loki's dutiful show of innocent attention, muted now the the even stronger stab of nostalgia.

It's not the time for either. What they have to discuss is far weightier than that. And not really a matter for the middle of Milliways, either.

Thor says, with sober weight, "About what occurred before you found yourself here."

[never_promised]

He draws a breath like he's about to rattle off into a long diversion, but just lets it out in a tight little laugh. "--Ah. Yes. That." Heh, well, oops. You got him. "All right. We can talk about that. Somewhere a little less...?"

He waves a hand to indicate the bustling room.

[livinginmyglass]

Viola, still in her mud-spattered stockings from that freak thunderstorm, finds reasons to loiter in the bar. She's not trying to avoid notice-- though she wouldn't mind if she did. She just wants to keep an eye out. That body is only his on loan, after all, and she doesn't wholly trust this Loki fellow to take the appropriate care of it.

[never_promised]

He doesn't look to be doing anything too terrible with it right at the moment, if you don't count shaving off the beard and slicking back the hair. And investing in green robes.

But he's also definitely not resting. And--oh--oh, come on, now he's pricking his thumb with a dagger and dripping blood into a shallow dish. That can't be something Harry Monmouth would appreciate.

[livinginmyglass]

Ehhhh. She doesn't want to intervene, but--

"How fare you, sir?" she calls brightly, hopping off her bar stool to approach. "I did not think you a physician. Bleed you to ease your ague?"

[never_promised]

"..........really? Bleeding? Agues?" If Cesario and Monmouth are from the same world, he'd be doing Monmouth a kindness putting him out of his primitive misery. "I needed a biological sample."

[livinginmyglass]

She can't help but look a little offended. "Why, I do not claim to be an expert in such matters. I know only so much of medicines as a child learns of its nursemaid. But pray you, as you are so wise, what make you with my friend's blood?"

[never_promised]

"Well, it's my blood right now." He looks down at the thumb, sighs, and sucks on the tip. It's still bleeding. Doesn't this body ever heal? He'll have to wrap it in one of the tissues. "And I'm just doing a little research. Don't worry, I don't need more than that for now."

A sudden smile, perfectly warm and amiable. "Would you like to help?"

[livinginmyglass]

"Help how?" Viola asks, not bothering to conceal her suspicion. "And with what?"

[never_promised]

"I won't take any of your blood, if you're worried about that. And you can keep an eye on your beloved king's body. To make sure I don't do anything untoward, I mean, of course. I'm not implying you have any ulterior motive."

He hands over a metal disc and a cloth. "This needs to be polished."