(no subject)

[foolyoutwice]

Mmph.

If Loki was in a sunny mood the last time he was puttering around with his skiff at the lakeside, he's all looming black clouds now. The skiff looks rough. Mostly superficial damage--scorch-marks, dents, a long scrape down one side--but one of the wings isn't folding smoothly. Does he know how to fix that? Not without consulting a few manuals?

He inspects the skiff, sourly, and then climbs into the back to take a damn nap. He can't bear the thought of that depressing little Milliways room and its meager bed; better to sleep rough by the lake.

That was a lot of illusion-work, a lot of invisibility. Of course it's not taxing to his powers or anything like that, but it does leave a bit of a headache.

(That was a lot of crude showy bloodshed in someone else's universe for someone else's benefit. Of course he doesn't feel regret or anything like that, but it does leave a bit of a headache.)



((Catch him looking over his boat, or if you don't mind an extra-irritable Loki catch him napping.))

Comments

[galen_erso]

"Whatever happened to your poor boat? Was it a naval battle?"

That's a scruffy man in unseasonably warm clothes walking by, followed by a black cat.

[foolyoutwice]

"It was not." Grump grump grump. Loki ducks to inspect the keel, where it hovers a foot or two above the ground, and pulls a chunk of mangled sod from it. "Do you work with ships?"

[galen_erso]

"Different kinds of ships," Galen says. "Starships, or even bigger things. What happened with this one?"

Levitating something to work on it is perfectly normal for him.

[foolyoutwice]

"It was shot at. And exploded near. And flown too close to the ground and too close to several buildings."

He closes his eyes and rests his forehead briefly against the hull. It doesn't really do much for the headache.

[galen_erso]

"How do you make it fly?" Galen asks.

[foolyoutwice]

"Magic," he says, returning his forehead to the hull and keeping his eyes closed. "A propulsion system based on energy known only to Asgard. Do you do repair work?"

[galen_erso]

"What kind of energy is that?" Galen asks. "And I probably can, depending on how it works."

[foolyoutwice]

"Magic energy," he says with exaggerated clarity. "You don't need to know how it works; it's all surface damage, aside from the wing. Which is merely a mechanical problem. What sort of starships do you build?"

[galen_erso]

"None, any more," Galen says. "I project managed the building of a battle station when I was alive."

[ownerless]

Pearl's attention is caught by the skiff itself well before she notices Loki tucked into the back-- she's nearly reached it, in fact, by the time she sees him there.

"Oh! Is this yours?"

[foolyoutwice]

He's curled up with his head on a chainmail pillow and a cloth pulled over him, and he twitches in his sleep when she speaks, like a dog catching rabbits in dreams.

Bing-ding! chimes a device nearby, a moment later, and he starts awake. What? Who? Oh, dammit, the alarm was supposed to go off before anyone got this close--

"Mmngh."

[ownerless]

"You were sleeping!" She sounds surprised. "Does your species need to sleep?"

[foolyoutwice]

"No."

Ugh fine he's awake, he's sitting up, see? "--Possibly now and then. Yes, this is my craft." It looked a lot more impressive a couple days ago.

[ownerless]

"You must have had it for a long time," she says, squatting down gracefully (can you squat gracefully? she can, somehow) to inspect some of the damage. "Though some of these marks seem new! Where did you take it?"

[foolyoutwice]

They're all new, in fact; the skiff has had a very rough couple of hours.

Loki suppresses a sigh. Pearl presumably has opinions about slaughtering humans at random. "I took it to a friend's world. He needed some help."

[ownerless]

She does! She really really does. But right now she's distracted testing out the joints of the busted wing, and just says distractedly, "Oh, that's nice of you."

[foolyoutwice]

.......that is a special kind of impressive right there.

"Oh, well. Anything for a friend in need, you know." That's him all over. "But I had to fly too close to a--cliff--and you can see the result. Do you know anything about the kind of repairs I'd need...?"

[freedom_is_grey]

"Well, that doesn't look good," Ysalwen says, striding up to the skiff and looking at it with an intent expression.

"I hope you're all right."

Liranan, at her heels, barks twice. He hopes Loki is okay, too! Otherwise Ysa will worry!

[foolyoutwice]

"Never been better." (Well, he's certainly been much worse.) "But the skiff and I aren't made of the same stuff, and I may have been--a little reckless with my piloting."

After seeing Jim's dog, Loki has more appreciation for Liranan. He tips the dog a quick smile.

[freedom_is_grey]

Liranan yips a delighted hello, tail wagging ferociously. Hi Loki! You seem tired!

Ysalwen's mouth twists a little at one corner, then she laughs quietly, shaking her head.

"There are worse things to be reckless with, I suppose. Are you going to try to repair it? Your skiff, I mean. I'm sure there are spare parts to be found in the garage, or purchased from Bar. Or, well, made, I suppose. If that's something you're good at?"

Ysalwen is not. So very, very not.

[foolyoutwice]

"Mmm. It's something I'll just have to learn." He runs a finger along the edge of the long scrape on one side, and winces. That's a nasty jagged edge. "I wish I could take it back to Asgard for repair. Or to Nidavellir. Bring it back better than new."

[freedom_is_grey]

"Nidavellir? Where is that?"

This may require clarification.

"Um, not in relation to here, but. In relation to Asgard? Or Earth, I suppose. If that's a safer reference point."

[foolyoutwice]

"It's another realm," he says absently. "The dwarf kingdom: fine smiths. Fine makers of magical weapons--and other things."

[freedom_is_grey]

Fine crafts, direct from Orzammar!

For a moment it's like being in Denerim again, or down among the Deep Roads, where the dwarves of Ysalwen's world live out there lives. (Save for the surface dwarves, but that's another story.)

"It's similar with dwarves in my world. Being well-reputed as metalsmiths and crafters, that is. The magic -- they work with lyrium, which isn't safe for most people. But the enchanting still has to be done elsewhere."

Well.

"Well, usually elsewhere. They're a dab hand with runes, some of them. Which helps."

[foolyoutwice]

"...Lyrium." That sounds interesting. "On Asgard we have materials that hold enchantment particularly well, materials that conduct energies. Does lyrium play that role?"

because that would be cool