[ O T A ] Nothing good could come from this . . .

[snaketrap]

CHARACTERS: Loki and EVERYONE ELSE IN THIS SPACE BAR
LOCATION: Library, wherever that is? Herp.
WARNINGS: ... Uh... Loki? Possibly triggering crap depending on what level of a-holery takes place.
SUMMARY: Books are Loki's friends. Unfortunately, nothing else is. So there will probably be some violence, and lying, and exposing of lies, and trickery, and horrid things and a really angry fellowship lmf- what is this.
NOTES: **Mod note for future reference: All books are like usb-drive sized devices that pop up into the pages of a "book".


+ + +
He needed to think. He needed a plan. He was stuck here, which put a significant dent in his prior plans to say the least. It made him uncomfortable. He lacked control. Thor was here. At least marginally convenient, but then what? Then what? He couldn't travel to another realm and shake it up or escape in a pinch. There was only this place. Only this place. He needed to be more careful. The Tesseract is gone. The scepter is gone. The influence is gone but the residue remains.

Earth wasn't the goal. What would he truly want the mortals for? They were weak, they were lesser beings in every single way. Play things. Pawns. The same went for here and the lies already woven. He was biding time to learn what he could before the true colors shone through. Few knew his name, his real name. Four had seen his face and associate it with Lucas. Many others know only his number and that given name. One, he knew that she knew he was lying. Two... had slight threat. Even still, Aragorn wasn't a match for Loki. That sword or not. Perhaps it was pride, but he was fairly certain.

For scrambling factors, he'll adapt another, and then it could be passed off that he's just innocently jerking chains and his threat level will slide under the radar until appropriate. Given the circumstances, a lie to keep an identity safe when you're in an unknown place is not too strange. He could work with that excuse if necessary.

His thoughts lead him to the library, the library lead him through rows and rows. Fiction, fiction, more useless fiction. The science was lacking and painfully so but he consumed all he could find. Pulling book after book out of the shelves until a decent size of them had accumulated and there he was. A neat and tidy pile, you could find him here immersed. Flipping page after page as if advanced molecular physics was a casual read. To him, honestly, it was.

Oh, and that Libby thing.

Comments

[ringbearer]

Frodo needed to think of other things. Which was what landed him in the library. He wasn't as as much desiring of thought as Loki was, rather the desire of distraction. He would not deny that the Ring was taking him slowly but surely though his spirit was resilient still. He could not deny it and there was no need to. The looks others gave him, of being told to sleep--of having to keep secretive to all, save those in the Fellowship and their company..

It was a heavy burden for a hobbit to bear, even one with a strong inner core. Just the same, Frodo bore it quietly. At the moment he was peering into a bookshelf, unfortunately on the lowest level, glancing at a book titled: "Science."

It was hardly something he was familiar with. He took it off the shelf, turning the corner into another aisle and peering warily at the person within said aisle. A Big Person. Something didn't feel quite right about him, though he could not place it.

Better to slip quietly down to another shelf.

[snaketrap]

He'd always been sharp. He always knew when Sif was around or Frigga. It wasn't ever hard to know when Thor was near by. Any of the other maidens or lords who chose to speak to him when he were young, he knew they were close before they ever approached him. It was safe to say that the presence itself was not what caused him to stop in his readings.

It was that feeling. Something so -- something incredibly deep pulling at the furthest parts of him. He slowly inhaled, and slid another page over.

"You needn't hide," the voice sounded remarkably stable.

[ringbearer]

Frodo stilled, turning his head slowly as the stranger spoke up. His senses were truly sharp then, or perhaps for all his attempts at sneaking he was easily detectable. A darker part knew the real reason.

With one book in the crook of his arm, the hobbit glanced over with a look of mild unease. He was a stranger, and there was a feel to him that did not feel right.

Unlike with Aragorn, this was a person he almost felt truly 'looked fairer and felt fouler'.

"I didn't want to disturb you. " Frodo replied politely.

frodo and legowaffle time the daring escape

[ringbearer]

While Aragorn and Lucas began to speak to each other, Frodo ran out of the library, book forgotten, glancing over his shoulder. It seemed Legolas was following him and for a minute he hesitated, stopping to glance at the two facing off with a tired sort of horror. How many times must people risk themselves on his behalf?

He stared at Legolas almost questioningly, wondering if it was truly best that he was with him and not Aragorn. The hobbit willed himself to run though the Ring was still heavy.

"Where shall we go?" He got out between breaths, hand closed over the Ring so it would not be seen in his attempts at escaping.

Re: frodo and legowaffle time the daring escape

[tofindthesun]

He stayed behind a second to make sure Lucas would not follow them. The spell just unleashed made him hesitate, but he wrenched himself away with a soft prayer for the Ranger and sped after the Hobbit. The arrow he placed back into the quiver but he kept the bow in his hand.

It was simple to catch up to Frodo with his longer strides and natural speed, but he stayed several steps behind; given the show of the Aesir's ability, he could not trust to leave Frodo's back unguarded, not when he was tasked with the little one's safety. Yet where could they go to find safety? He could not so easily trust others on this ship. The gardens and the jungle, though large and fit for hiding (for an Elf, anyway) could hold any innumerable amount of people like the Aesir.

"Your room, perhaps? It is safe, is it not?"

[faderbroderson]

Godric wandered into the library, seeking distraction. He was unsurprised to find another already occupying the space, and he nodded politely as he entered. What did come as a surprise were two things; the number of books the stranger had accumulated -- apparently a good portion of the non-fiction available -- and the stranger's scent. He was no human, no fae or shifter. In all of Godric's years, he'd only met one other with that scent.

He slowed, then stopped entirely rather than passing Loki by. "Forgive the intrusion," he began politely, "but you seem to have collected a title I would like to read. Would you mind...?" He indicated one of the books set to the side.

[snaketrap]

He knew another had entered and it bothered him none. The words scribed upon such pages were only half of what rolled through his mind. Needless to say, Loki was well occupied in his thoughts. What was he going to do. What did he want to do? He had no place, no home, no reason. He was not here, not there. He was not this nor that.

That was what he was. Nothing. Everything.

Greens looked upward in silence for a moment as they looked over the one who spoke out. You are not a man. But it wasn't spoken. A palm opened in a wordless offering, instead.

[faderbroderson]

He is no man, and his tattoos -- symbols and runes of ancient Norse -- are no youthful rebellion.

Inclining his head in thanks, Godric selected a book of quantum physics from the pile, a subject he was only passingly familiar with, but which he requires a greater knowledge of here. He settles on a chair not far from Loki, but not within his personal space, and begins to read.

While Loki intrigues him, he is not so rude as to interrupt a person (and certainly not one of the Aesir) as they are reading. Instead he sits silently and still, unnaturally so for a human, as only his eyes move across pages, rapidly.

[heltersskelter]

Though Tate had asked for books from the people on board, he stil found solace in the Library. Maybe it was some kind of bizarre carry over from his life, when he'd slip away to the quiet of books and pages at every chance possible. Or maybe it was simply the novelty of being able to go to a proper library. Months of being here and the scenery still wasn't getting old, but being trapped in a house for the better part of twenty some odd years could do that.

He's climbed up into the ledge in the corner of the room like a crow finding it's perch, cross legged with a book in his lap. It's impossible to tell what it is with the cover on his legs, but he was fully immersed in it until someone else came into the room. His gaze lifts, follows the slender figure of Loki as he goes about his business, before lowering again. He watches the altercations out of the corner of his eye- people approaching him and moving away- but he doesn't move from his corner. He gets wrapped up in words on pages for a while.

Eventually, though, when everyone's left the man alone, Tate's black eyes return, riddling into the back of the demigod's head.

hope this works for you!

[snaketrap]

Loki always found comfort in the libraries. Always so hungry for knowledge; for further skill. Reading histories of the other realms, learning their languages, uncovering their secrets. He could spend days there. Far away, tucked into the furthest corner with a book and his magic. When he needed to think, when he needed to escape, or those times he just sat down to self-study when his Mentors were busied with other tasks and the games of Thor and the warriors. It weren't as if he hated adventuring, he enjoyed it quite fully like any other. Hearing enough slights of your methods when trouble comes or being trouble yourself, well. Sometimes an escape is more desirable.

Of course everything would follow him. Of course he couldn't have a moment of silence, a moment to himself to think, indulge, just be. That would be asking far too much from the universes, apparently. But all said and done he returned. And once all was silent was when he spoke.

"Tis ill to stare," a tone with slight exasperation, but nothing else more.

likewiselkajsd

[heltersskelter]

The blonde draws one finger along the edge of his book cover, feeling the paper nick the pad of skin, when he's finally addressed.

"Tis ill to make a scene in a library," Tate shoots back with a dusting of sarcasm, and without missing a beat. "You're lucky there aren't any librarians around to slap you with a belt or something. Unless that's your thing." He adds the last bit as an after thought, maybe to provoke on purpose, but he doesn't know who this guy is outside his prying on the network, and Tate has all the subtley of a bull in a china shop when he's really trying.

[ironsights]

Research. Every mission, every sniping assignment, every kill job started and ended with information. And so Kazama spent a surprising amount of time lurking in the library -- he'd never had much time for reading back home, too loaded down with a variety of missions -- but all he had here was free time. History was where he started, poring over accounts of a world where history had proceeeded fifferently from what he knew. (A world without the awful totalitarian government of his world. A world with fewer wards.)

And then he moved onto basic sciences. Things about weapons, mostly. Guns. Things that pertained to his interest. It was his slow poking around the shelves that led him to stumble upon some strange man with a monopoly on reference, piling them around himself like a fort. And though Kazama honestly cared little-to-not-at-all for socialization, one of the books on ballistics sat in the middle of one of those piles.

He didn't bother speaking, just quietly stepped forward and took that one book from its place in the pile, not looking at Loki. Keeping a hand steady at his belt, resting against where he had his pistol holstered. Just in case.

assuming this is pre-library demolition with the fellowship :x

[snaketrap]

What a hilariously convoluted method of explaining simple theory these mortals had. One could, perhaps, give them an applause for the unfathomable amount of useless detail placed in to such study.

Without a blink, without even taking his eyes from the book, the idle hand snapped out and grabbed it tight. Just the smallest grin slid over Loki's lips.

"Have you no manners, Mortal?"

sure that works!

[ironsights]

It was a sharper reaction than he'd anticipated. Kazama tensed up reflexively when the hand shot out, gripping tighter at the book. And though he didn't really care all that much about the book, he didn't like that tone of voice, that tiny smirk.

"You're not using it."

Said flatly, with zero emotion, in contrast to the way he narrowed his eyes at Loki to meet that stare. Kazama yanked sharply at the book. Confrontational.

[majestyofthethrone]

She's poking into the library, her slate tied to one wrist, and she doesn't see him right away. Seraphim doesn't read much - it doesn't come as easily as math, just like Grigori reads like a maniac. The two opposites of one whole, their uncle calls them.

Because of that, it's the section with all the books on physics that appeal to her - the complex math, the applications of it, that's what she's interested in. It takes her a moment to spot him. She looks tired, even though she's so young, it looks bone-deep, like an exhaustion that almost never goes away.

[snaketrap]

It was the presence that had him stop for a moment. Right in the middle of a medical text, anatomy actually. It was old fashioned, to him anyway, but his mind soaked in every last detail and fact. Words calmed him down, eased and distracted, and if he could find nothing of use here at least he could find something with partial interest.

Bide his time a little more until it he had at least a few paths to take, fleshed out enough that they could be worth something. The book is slid to the table, however, as his eyes meet hers at the exact time that she does take note of him.

[majestyofthethrone]

She looks a touch skittish for a second, but Seraphim's been trying to get over her fears, especially of new people, so when he looks up at her she just smiles a little: the barest tugging at the corners of her lips, and she waves.

She wishes, not for the first time, that she could say hello like a normal person. She looks at the book he's reading and then down at her slate, and writes down, I hope that's a good book.

[odinsons]

The library had been a place Thor had spent time before—with Jane. It wasn't often he ventured here by himself. What use was it? Thor's interests were hardly in books and words—that was something more suited to Loki.

Which is exactly why he went.

Something in the air felt different today; the electricity crackled over his skin. It isn't the comfort it usually is, which only leads him to believe that Loki is here. Thor had stopped just outside the door leading inside. He had no speech prepared, he had nothing. Oddly enough, being aboard this ship had given him a little insight, a little forethought. Not much, but some. He had also been here long enough to know of the timeline difference that often seemed to happen between those from the same world. Two days after speaking with Loki that startling revelation had slapped him with about as much grace as an avalanche. It had eaten away at him, not knowing what the last thing that happened to Loki had been.

He realized he needed to stop over-thinking and just go. So he did. Never has Thor been one for silence or quiet, so he knew his steps to be loud. Familiar. The library is big, but not big enough for the distance he knew Loki to want between them. When he finally set his eyes on his brother—so long he's wanted him back here—a twist of fresh guilt coiled in his stomach and his heart beat differently. Fresh memories of fighting with Loki atop Stark Tower flood his mind and unconsciously his hand went to his side.

"Loki."

[snaketrap]

The last thing that happened to Loki.

The last thing that happened to Loki was Thor. No doubt the All Father mustered up quite a bit of magic to lead him down to Midgard. Something in which he knows the All-Father prefers not to do, use magic. Taken right out from the mortal's carrier and put here. He didn't want to face this, not really. He could tell himself a million lies and believe them enough to kill. With no guilt. With no shame. Until Thor comes along and then everything becomes grey. Everything becomes less clear. He doesn't know how to sort it or where to start, he just knows a few very basic and crucial details:

1. He was not an Odinson. He was not Thor's brother and it did not matter what Thor said, it did not matter whatever stupid speech he make about how he has changed and how Loki's - how Loki's true heritage is meaningless, it's not. One. Thousand. Years.

2. These emotions of jealousy, and deeper then, inadequacy were not new developments. The hate was, however. The hate was.

"You can read?" Flat. His mockery always had a sharpness to it, but the silver was made to burn when it spoke right now. "I hadn't known."

[odinsons]

No. That's simply untrue. It is untrue and one day Thor will make Loki see that. They are brothers. It doesn't matter if they do not share blood—they share a bond that cannot be broken. No matter how many times Loki attempts to sever it, he cannot. Thor refuses to allow him to do that. He will fight that to the death with no regret. And even then he would keep fighting. Loki is his brother. Now until forever.

Thor just frowns, arms already crossed in front of him as if that will somehow protect his heart from Loki's cutting words that are sure to come. It won't. It never does.

"Is this truly how you wish to begin, brother?" He's pacing—he hadn't even realized. Prowling like a caged animal. "Paltry insults that are even beneath you?"

[helpmeguideit]

The library was among Charles' favorite places to be. While it wasn't the same, and the books weren't the same, the feeling was. It was uniquely relaxing and he found it easy to come here, pick a spot, and give himself time to think. He had a lot to think about. The conversation with his other self had really unsettled him.

That wasn't what he wanted for them. It wasn't what he wanted for himself, either. All he was building in the future was a student army. He wondered what it took him to take those actions against Erik. What happened for this? Humans would still see them as a threat, perhaps even more than they did now. What good was going to come of it?

He sat in one of the rows of the library, playing games of chess with himself. He thought it would put his mind at ease, but it only caused it to continue stirring. A quick walk around the library would help. He needed to tell himself that he could not change what the experiences of others were, but he could change his own, as long as he remembered.

The pile he saw forming was a little bit of a surprise. People (generally - in his experience), did not pick up physics books for a fun read.

[snaketrap]

Troubled minds attract troubled minds, it seems. Like trouble seeking trouble. Liars lying to liars. Power craving power. It was always easy to spot. It was always easy to shift through and weed them out. There were plenty here, trouble makers and those who bend right and wrong in moral law. He was sorting, shifting through all the possibilities, shifting through all the tangents and operations, and such intensive topics kept him sharp. Completely, and truly, pleasure reads. For he took pleasure in being sharp.

Much of these theories, much of these studies, they were all Midgardian in nature. Simple, so simple, so narrow, not of magic and such extreme advancements. Such was why reading was so entirely easy. At least he would learn what mortals understood true and not, in a generalized sense. He had already come to notice that not all those here as human have existed only within the dimness of those he knew.

His eyes, for just a small moment, meet the man who had passed by. Then, they simply returned to the 'pages' before him.

[helpmeguideit]

"Are you reading those for fun?" he had to ask. If he was reading them must for fun, then this person may be someone who would be great company for Charles. Charles almost hadn't approached him or said a word. He almost passed on by and went back to the desk buried in the library, with his chessboard and a game that was half played.

He moved his fingers to one of the 'books' sitting to the side and picked it up to glance at it. Not to take it, just curious as to what he had picked up along the way. Charles was not as comfortable with the books here worked, and was a little disappointed.

super late--feel free to ignore.

[the_vishual]

She sees a horned snake. Somewhere--it's a person, or Chase thinks it is, but it's hard to tell. The Vishual is supposed to be a being of immense power, but aboard the ship?

She knows half of what she used to. Secrets, yes--she knows all of the secrets--but it's like looking at a cracked mirror, or through frosted glass. Like the snake with horns--and green, green eyes. Beautiful, tormented, deadly eyes and a tongue that's the colour of silver.

She actually goes to the library to escape the image--it's not terrifying, no, but Chase has other things on her mind. The ever-looming presence of the laughter aboard the ship, the echoes of the damned.

The four year old sees him--sitting there, buried among the pile of books. She watches him carefully, closely, eyes somewhat narrowed before she finally takes a step forward, clearing her throat.

"I don't believe we've been introduced, sir."

NEVER

[snaketrap]

And would it not be almost fate that she escape right in to that very snake trap? He could feel a power but he felt many things around him. There were plenty, and the ability to hone in on it had never been a strength. Perhaps in time, but also he felt this place compressed him. A constant pressure on the flow of energy was in place.

"Are you the ship's host?" His tone is light, but clear with sarcasm addressing her method of greeting. Only after his statement did those green, green eyes come to look at her.