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[sassgaardian]

The door opens, and a young man in plain blue pyjamas, mis-matched socks, and an Iron Man hoodie walks through the door. He yawns loudly and takes about four steps before stopping abruptly. Even with the poor posture of someone who has just crawled from bed, he's tall; close to six and a half feet. His fashionably shaggy hair reinforces the image of someone who has recently woken up, mussed and aggressively cowlicked on one side. He appears, for all intents and purposes, as a perfectly average 20-something. To those sensitive to the ways of gods and magic and things (or those who have had the (mis)fortune of having already crossed his path on the other side of the door), he is anything but. A Norse God of Mischief stands in the bar today, tired and confused about where he has found himself this morning.

With his hands stuffed deep into the front pocket of his hoodie, Loki stands in one spot with his feet planted firmly on the floor, turning his entire body to look around the place that is not his living room. His gaze finally falls onto the Bar itself, and he frowns. He is too tired for this. Whatever this is, he is not in the mood for it.

Then, he rolls his head back and starts to shout.

"Who moved my apartment!?"

Rude. That's what it is. Just plain rude.

[ooc: Please see this post for more information on this particular thread of Marvel weirdness happening in the bar today. He finds the bar somewhere between Young Avengers and Agent of Asgard.]

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[zenigatcha]

Zenigata is not sure which has his attention first: the fact the young man could look him in the eye without standing on his tippy-toes, that he is very obviously lost, or that he's another dark haired young man that wandered into Milliways, and that's apparently his favorite kind to collect. Still, he sits back at the bar, away from his laptop and his smoldering cigarette, and gives the kid a once over.

"Good morning," he says, because even though it was not morning when he got here it is very likely Loki's morning somewhere. "First time to the bar, then?"

He does love to be the welcome wagon. It's the Bar Dad in him, sweeping out his big coat like wings to see if he can stuff yet another person under them.

[sassgaardian]

As a magical being himself, Loki knows to be wary of magically-appearing taverns. Whether the tavern has magically appeared, or he has magically teleported, he isn't sure yet.

Either way, his suspicious as hel over this entire thing.

"Is this your doing?" he asks.

It's not an unfair assumption to suspect the first person to speak up. They're usually the person who has something to do with it, in Loki's experience.

[zenigatcha]

"Not in the slightest. I'm sure one of the wait rats will bring you a brochure by-- though they're apparently a bit dated," Zenigata says as he takes up his cigarette and takes a drag. Exhaling into empty space, he turns and looks back at the young man.

God, he's tall. Zenigata doesn't get to say that often. It's kind of novel, in an almost pleasant way.

"My name is Zenigata Koichi, of Interpol. I am a very boring, human cop from a somewhat boring, human world. This is Milliway's, the bar at the end of the universe." He gestures, cigarette still between his thick fingers, at the window where time and space collapse in slow motion beyond it. "Would you like to hear the welcome spiel? Three rules, first drink's free, etcetera?"

[sassgaardian]

This is all rather a lot to take in when Loki's head is still full of sleep and fluff.

He looks around again, properly looking this time. Seeing the place for what it is, rather than just not being his apartment. He hasn't read that particular book yet, so unfortunately the name means nothing. But he's been given quite a bit of information as it is.

Loki is slow to respond, letting the pieces fall into place as he takes in the décor. This fellow is human, but it's apparently expected to run into non-humans from other worlds. There are rules and brochures, and apparently a tradition of giving free drinks.

Fascinating.

"And what somewhat boring human world do you come from?" he asks.

Names have power, especially in places like this. He thinks he'll hold onto his for a bit longer.

[zenigatcha]

"An Earth," Zenigata says; his name is storied and weighty, filled with history even in a casual introduction. Somewhere else, it'd be spoken like an invocation. In others, like a curse. Very loaded name. "I'm with Interpol, living in Lyon, France. You'll find there are many people from many Earths here, and some who have never heard of Earth at all."

[sassgaardian]

"Oh."

Loki makes a sound almost like he's disappointed. He gets flung to the apparent end of the universe, only to meet someone who lives just a few time zones away.

Still, he moves to join Zenigata at the bar, if only so he's no longer standing in the middle of the path.

"You may find it's known by different names. Terra, Sol three, Midgard. Different systems have different names for it," Loki says. He offers a shrug, and half of a smile. "Manhattan," he says.

[zenigatcha]

"Tokyo, originally," Zenigata says, and smiles, closing his laptop down. He taps the bar, and then says to her, "First drink's on you, my dear, but I'll handle his breakfast."

It is very novel, sitting next to someone his size. Well, his height, anyway.

"I haven't been to Manhattan in many years," he continues. "America's not my favorite place to visit, though. Anyway-- let me give you the rundown of the rules; they're very simple. No violence upon patrons in the bar. Nothing you'd do in an adult cinema inside the bar proper, either -- if you have a need for a room, ask Bar for a key, or take it through your own door. Also, no business from your own world here. If your implacable foe drops in for a cuppa, you have to let them have the cuppa in peace. Very simple, yes?"

[sassgaardian]

Nothing about Loki is as it appears. He may be of slim build, but does not have the weight to match it.

He's a little wary of the way Zenigata seems to be speaking to nobody at all for a moment though. That's never a good sign. But he decides to just roll with it.

"Oh. Just coffee for now," he says.

When it appears in front of him, Loki is not at all shy about leaning far away from that nonsense. That's some fae shenanigans right there. He looks over to his new companion, hoping this is as alarming to him as it is to Loki.

[zenigatcha]

There isn't even a blink. Then again, Zenigata has Seen Some Weird Shit in his day, so this wasn't honestly all that surprising. He's watched an immortal mermaid nun ascend to heaven and he's traveled through time. Aliens? Met them. Supercomputer powered by Chopin? Weird identity swaps and hidden princes, clones of Lupin and a psychic assistant; none of this is really surprising to Zenigata on a regular day. After twenty years of Lupin, nothing is really entirely impossible anymore.

"She's Bar," he says, tapping her surface. "The place is her. She's the place. That's-- all anybody knows. Rumor has it there's a Bartender, that's -- bound to her? I guess? But I've never met him."

[acertainpov]

Obi-Wan Kenobi was planning to spend the evening relaxing in the bar, catching up on some intelligence reports and generally hopefully being where Anakin isn't.

The presence of a man nearly half a meter taller than him, standing directly in front of the door shouldn't put him off his stride. The fact that the young man is a screaming maelstrom of the Force almost does.

He stops short, and looks up at the back of the man in front of him.

"Hello, there."

[sassgaardian]

Loki is not expecting anyone to come from behind him. He turns around to face the person speaking to him.

"Is this your doing?" he asks. He looks behind the strange man, toward where his bedroom should be.

Something is very odd here.

[acertainpov]

The door behind Obi-Wan didn't swing shut - it slid shut from a the wall in a way that it definitely doesn't look like it should, now. It not looks like a normal hinged door.

The man in question tilts his head, and partly raises an eyeborw at this accusation.

"The appearance of the bar? I assure you it is not."

He's telling the truth, of course. But the general aura of I'm completely trustworthy these aren't the droids you're looking for might not actually help that assertion.

[sassgaardian]

Huh. That's interesting. Loki can feel a strange pull on him. A force of will, almost.

"Don't do that," he says. It's a warning, with just enough weight behind it to let this strange man know he isn't playing.

He's got a magic to him Loki has never encountered before. It's something strange and foreign and old. It's not often he comes across something like this.

But he steps out of the way, knowing even in circumstances such as this that good manners and polite behaviour will get you farther than threats and posturing.

"I was summoned here. Why?" he asks.

He doesn't like being summoned. It happens so rarely, and it's still more than he'd like.

[acertainpov]

"I'm not doing anything."

And he's really not, not consciously, it's just a force (ha) of habit. But in concession he makes the effort to pull his Force presence back a bit, so it's just him and his demeanour giving the same impression.

"And I don't know why you've been summoned, if indeed that's what happened. Sometimes the door just appears for people, for whatever reason I haven't been able to ascertain."

As the way is clear he steps past, out of the way himself, but walking around Loki to continue the conversation.

"Am I right in inferring it's the first time for you?"

[sassgaardian]

This whole thing sits unwell with Loki. He doesn't recognise this man's mode of dress, nor anything about this place. He keeps his hands in his front pocket, attempting to seem as unassuming as possible despite his size.

"And if I said that it is?" he asks.

Doors just appearing in his apartment are somehow more alarming than being summoned. He's going to need to boost his wards, apparently. Oh goodie. That's an entire weekend lost.

[acertainpov]

"Then I would give you the tour, such as it is; introduce you to the Bar, run through the very few rules that are in place and assure you that as far as I can tell the so-called 'magic' that operates the main door appears not to be malevolent in nature."

He says this all perfectly pleasantly, lifting a hand to his beard to rub his thumb and forefinger against his chin as he considers the young (?) man in front of him.

"On the other hand, if you say it isn't, I shall leave you to your evening, unless you're looking for company."

[sassgaardian]

There are about two dozen questions bouncing through Loki's mind right now. Confusion and deep suspicion line his face as he looks around the place, still trying to figure out where he has found himself.

"What is this place?" he asks.

He's not sure he believes that the magic is not malevolent in nature if it plucked him from his bedroom.

[wayward_sun]

That was - loud.

Lucifer looks up from his drink.

He knows a Loki. Probably more than one, if multiverses have been behaving like they tend to do, but not this one.

He does recognise people who aren't people though.

Lucifer is quite the opposite of mussed up. Every hair is just so, every stubble even more so. He is wearing a three piece suit (pale grey), a silk shirt (lavender), and really expensive shoes.

And he is smiling.

"Nobody. It's right where it's supposed to be."

He takes a sip of his drink.

[sassgaardian]

Loki's a god. They don't exactly do quiet.

When his question is answered, Loki looks up to find himself facing someone who isn't human himself. There's quite a bit to take in here.

"Strange. Because I find myself not where I expect to."

He regards this man, whoever he is, with a suspicion that comes from millennia of experience.

[wayward_sun]

"You're at Milliways. It's a pocket universe at the end of everything," Lucifer says.

"It seems like time stops while you're here, so not too worry."

Lucifer only looks suspicious when he thinks Dad is trying to get his greedy mitts on his life, so his welcoming smile is in fact rather welcoming.

Also, he is used to being the potentially scariest being in the room. Not that you can tell.

"The first drink is on the house, I've been told."

See? He's being super helpful.

[sassgaardian]

Loki isn't here for a fight, however annoyed and confused he may be. But he is ready to be on the defensive. Especially when the being who stands before him reeks of power. Something Loki isn't familiar with, though he feels like he should be.

Somehow, that's worse.

He holds himself firm, not aiming for the scariest being in the room, but someone who at least should not be messed with. The effect might be ruined by his freshly-dragged-from-bed look, but he's got build and practise on his side.

"Who are you?" he asks, feeling at the moment that this is more important than drinks. "I don't appreciate being summoned against my will."

That's what this is, right? A summoning? It seems like one.

[wayward_sun]

"Oh, nobody enjoys that," Lucifer agrees. "One of my brother's have made it his mission to drag me home, so he's tried that shit on me numerous times. Anyway, this place seems - benign. Or else somebody is really playing the long game. I've been here countless times and nothing bad has ever happened."

There's a pause.

"Except for that fiery whatever that showed up to kill people that one time."

Oh well.

"I'm Lucifer Morningstar."

[sassgaardian]

Hang on.

What.

No.

Loki watches him critically, trying to figure out why this feels wrong. He'd expect to see more... horns. Definitely more horns.

"You'll excuse me for not shaking your hand," he says.

It's been quite a while since Loki visited Hell, but even so, something feels off. Different. Like something has been meddled with.

[wayward_sun]

Lucifer weaves a hand. "I'm not a stickler for formality."

A bit hurt but -

He cants his head a little and looks at the being in front of him.

"Just for the record, I didn't do anything."

Everything feels - a little bit like it used to. When he was still ruler of Hell and others showed up there.

But he quit, so if anybody is going to make a big production out of this, it won't be him.

[sassgaardian]

Loki looks around the bar once again, deeply suspicious of everything around him. Then, it all vanishes. The posture, the suspicion, the wariness. All gone in an instant.

"Whatever. I'm too tired for this," he announces, already making tracks for the bar. "If it's a pocket dimension, then it's not my problem, and I don't care enough to make it my problem."

But if it's a tavern, as it appears to be, then maybe he can get some breakfast. Then he'll figure out what's going on. But he's still not going to shake Lucifer's hand.