“Bullshit,” Loki snapped back, glaring at Thor’s retreating back and returning form. The universe was full of unwinnable games. Thor didn’t realize it only because the universe didn’t constantly rub his face in them.
Snatching the book wouldn’t work a second time. If he’d been up to his usual standard he’d have stashed it over there to be forgotten or burned later. Ah, missed opportunities. There was only one play left to make, and no words could express how much Loki resented being driven to it.
He’d passed a good deal of time on the Isle of Silence as a child, youth, and even later. His constant punishment. Of course Loki had tried to create a spell to reverse the effect, rendering the place bearable. He’d only ever succeeded in copying the Silence, a spell he never wanted to cast, as it was nothing but torture..
He didn’t want to cast it now - Loki hated silence with an absolute purity of hate - but he did. Silence settled on the alcove like physical weight, not simple absence of sound but impossibility of sound. Maybe it was only in Loki’s head that it muted color and deadened touch too. Maybe it was only in his head that the air thickened and became hard to breathe. But maybe not.
Fortunately he didn’t have to face the Silence even slightly sober if he didn’t want to. He flipped Thor off in case a gesture would communicate his anger/frustration/resentment/resolve, then pulled a bottle of vodka out of his stash, opened it, and commenced drinking.
no subject
Snatching the book wouldn’t work a second time. If he’d been up to his usual standard he’d have stashed it over there to be forgotten or burned later. Ah, missed opportunities. There was only one play left to make, and no words could express how much Loki resented being driven to it.
He’d passed a good deal of time on the Isle of Silence as a child, youth, and even later. His constant punishment. Of course Loki had tried to create a spell to reverse the effect, rendering the place bearable. He’d only ever succeeded in copying the Silence, a spell he never wanted to cast, as it was nothing but torture..
He didn’t want to cast it now - Loki hated silence with an absolute purity of hate - but he did. Silence settled on the alcove like physical weight, not simple absence of sound but impossibility of sound. Maybe it was only in Loki’s head that it muted color and deadened touch too. Maybe it was only in his head that the air thickened and became hard to breathe. But maybe not.
Fortunately he didn’t have to face the Silence even slightly sober if he didn’t want to. He flipped Thor off in case a gesture would communicate his anger/frustration/resentment/resolve, then pulled a bottle of vodka out of his stash, opened it, and commenced drinking.