[He turns his head away, hugging the magpie plushie close.]
... I didn't need them to take care of me.
[Just like he didn't need Stephen either. Or Thor.]
And I can understand it too, from their perspective. It wasn't wise for them to work as closely with me as they did, Asgard judged and dethroned them for even that much.
I remember her being kind when we were younger- actually younger. Although I don't know if that's simply a story I told myself, same with Thor and I getting along well.
There was a boy who was not a boy, but a fire, and when the first skald told his tale the flame leapt up and knew itself even as it burned a man nearby. The fire was called tricksy, for it leapt and danced like the character in the old skald's tale, and it took the form of that which he was intended to be.
It was a thought made true and whole, and so it lived. I am Loki, it said. I am going to find out what that great awful noise is!
To keep his flaming head dry he fashioned a crown but the flames turned it into antlers, wild and every which-way. He walked to the door, keeping out of the rain as fire is want to do whether flesh or flame, and watched the light arcing across the sky to booming bangs that shook the house.
Ho, there! shouted Loki to the lightning. What are you doing? This is the night and I am the only thing that burns at such an hour!
Another boy dropped right out of the rain. He looked like he had straw for hair, it stuck in every direction. This is the time of thunder and lightning, said he, when the rain comes and no end to it is in sight.
Loki thought this boy a little stupid: nobody liked rain, as far as he could tell from the people huddled inside the hut, and everybody wanted his flames.
What is the purpose to the lightning and the thunder? he asked.
The strange boy frowned as he thought on it. It became apparent he did not know. It is just the time for it, said the boy.
Then we shall make a game of your lightning so it has a purpose, said Loki, who was so very clever he knew he ought to save the boy from overthinking before his skull cracked in half from the strain. If your lightning can hit something on the ground, I will set it on fire. Then all the people will be gladdened by the extra warmth we have brought together, you and I!
The other little boy thought this was a marvellous idea. Well met! My name, he said, is ...
As you can imagine, all went to plan and then again, not at all. For Thor hit one tree with his lightning, fwoom! Up it went with Loki's fire! Then another, whoosh! And again, and again, until they were having such fun they forgot the difference between trees and huts.
We are being punished by the gods! cried the people, crying in the rain.
But you have more fire, said Loki. You are made warmer. Are you not glad? You welcomed me in your hut!
I do not think a big fire is the same thing as a small one, said Thor, with a scrap of wisdom he snatched before Loki could glean it.
Loki and Thor then did their best to hide behind a blazing tree-stump, but a big hand grabbed them both and scooped the boys up! The owner had a beard as bristly as thorns and he looked mad. Loki considered burning him then thought better of it.
I am Odin! King of the Aesir! What rascals are at work with mischief here!
And then, do you know what Thor did? He pointed at Loki. Do you think that was fair?
Well, he shook them both [ with a shake of Loki in his arms, though not too roughly and just for effect's sake, ] and set them down in the mud.
Thor, said he, You cannot place fault on another when it lives in yourself! For shame! And Loki, you must not encourage a fire in others! Contain it, for you are the sole wielder and to put it in your brother is to set loose such a storm as no one ever dreamed.
Loki thought that sounded mighty interesting, but he was indignant that he was being told off.
I thought the fire would make the people happy when they had more of it.
Odin scowled. Have the both of you learned a lesson?
Both boys nodded. It seemed foolhardy to do anything but agree with Odin, even when they truly didn't. As the old man walked away, Loki turned to Thor and said, You must put out all the fires now with your rain, though it will hurt me. I will bear it.
And Thor did, trying to make the rain fall faster as his flame-brother winced and wept. Once all was done, a lesson had been learned but it was not the one Odin had sought to teach. Thor learned he had a brother who might get him into trouble, whereas Loki learned that he must not be so brazen when trying to help others lest his efforts blow smoke back in his face.
There once was a witch who survived her own death. When she came to, however, she found she had no memory of the person she was. While she was alive and plenty powerful, she could never shake the feeling that something was missing.
One day, she's attacked by another witch who claims to have known her in the past. She fights back because that's how these things go, but still finds that nothing's been remembered. To make things stranger, she then encounters a young girl who could very well be her twin. Not only that, but the girl immediately clings to her, calling her Mother...
[He's literally just reciting the plot of Bayonetta. Mischief!]
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They were nice sometimes. [He tries to think of an example] They'd give me flowers?
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... I didn't need them to take care of me.
[Just like he didn't need Stephen either. Or Thor.]
And I can understand it too, from their perspective. It wasn't wise for them to work as closely with me as they did, Asgard judged and dethroned them for even that much.
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[ He tugs on the boy's sleeve, opening up an arm for him. ]
Freyja loved you greatly, if it helps.
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I remember her being kind when we were younger- actually younger. Although I don't know if that's simply a story I told myself, same with Thor and I getting along well.
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Stop moping and let me tell you a bedtime story.
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[Loki relents, sticking his tongue out in one final protest.]
But only so that I can judge if you're truly a better storyteller than Volstagg.
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[ Ahem! ]
There was a boy who was not a boy, but a fire, and when the first skald told his tale the flame leapt up and knew itself even as it burned a man nearby. The fire was called tricksy, for it leapt and danced like the character in the old skald's tale, and it took the form of that which he was intended to be.
It was a thought made true and whole, and so it lived. I am Loki, it said. I am going to find out what that great awful noise is!
To keep his flaming head dry he fashioned a crown but the flames turned it into antlers, wild and every which-way. He walked to the door, keeping out of the rain as fire is want to do whether flesh or flame, and watched the light arcing across the sky to booming bangs that shook the house.
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Volstagg's never told me this one, I will give you that. ... What then?
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Ho, there! shouted Loki to the lightning. What are you doing? This is the night and I am the only thing that burns at such an hour!
Another boy dropped right out of the rain. He looked like he had straw for hair, it stuck in every direction. This is the time of thunder and lightning, said he, when the rain comes and no end to it is in sight.
Loki thought this boy a little stupid: nobody liked rain, as far as he could tell from the people huddled inside the hut, and everybody wanted his flames.
What is the purpose to the lightning and the thunder? he asked.
The strange boy frowned as he thought on it. It became apparent he did not know. It is just the time for it, said the boy.
Then we shall make a game of your lightning so it has a purpose, said Loki, who was so very clever he knew he ought to save the boy from overthinking before his skull cracked in half from the strain. If your lightning can hit something on the ground, I will set it on fire. Then all the people will be gladdened by the extra warmth we have brought together, you and I!
The other little boy thought this was a marvellous idea. Well met! My name, he said, is ...
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[His face lights up and despite his best efforts, he's caught up in the story.]
Is this how you remember it...?
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[ Patting him on the head. ]
As you can imagine, all went to plan and then again, not at all. For Thor hit one tree with his lightning, fwoom! Up it went with Loki's fire! Then another, whoosh! And again, and again, until they were having such fun they forgot the difference between trees and huts.
We are being punished by the gods! cried the people, crying in the rain.
But you have more fire, said Loki. You are made warmer. Are you not glad? You welcomed me in your hut!
I do not think a big fire is the same thing as a small one, said Thor, with a scrap of wisdom he snatched before Loki could glean it.
Loki and Thor then did their best to hide behind a blazing tree-stump, but a big hand grabbed them both and scooped the boys up! The owner had a beard as bristly as thorns and he looked mad. Loki considered burning him then thought better of it.
I am Odin! King of the Aesir! What rascals are at work with mischief here!
And then, do you know what Thor did? He pointed at Loki. Do you think that was fair?
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[It never mattered if it was fair, though. It was always Loki's fault.]
What did Odin do?
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Thor, said he, You cannot place fault on another when it lives in yourself! For shame! And Loki, you must not encourage a fire in others! Contain it, for you are the sole wielder and to put it in your brother is to set loose such a storm as no one ever dreamed.
Loki thought that sounded mighty interesting, but he was indignant that he was being told off.
I thought the fire would make the people happy when they had more of it.
Odin scowled. Have the both of you learned a lesson?
Both boys nodded. It seemed foolhardy to do anything but agree with Odin, even when they truly didn't. As the old man walked away, Loki turned to Thor and said, You must put out all the fires now with your rain, though it will hurt me. I will bear it.
And Thor did, trying to make the rain fall faster as his flame-brother winced and wept. Once all was done, a lesson had been learned but it was not the one Odin had sought to teach. Thor learned he had a brother who might get him into trouble, whereas Loki learned that he must not be so brazen when trying to help others lest his efforts blow smoke back in his face.
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[That truth remained, no matter the story.]
You're supposed to be telling stories with happier endings, though.
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[He considers for a second, before beginning,]
There once was a witch who survived her own death. When she came to, however, she found she had no memory of the person she was. While she was alive and plenty powerful, she could never shake the feeling that something was missing.
One day, she's attacked by another witch who claims to have known her in the past. She fights back because that's how these things go, but still finds that nothing's been remembered. To make things stranger, she then encounters a young girl who could very well be her twin. Not only that, but the girl immediately clings to her, calling her Mother...
[He's literally just reciting the plot of Bayonetta. Mischief!]
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Are you sure this is an original story?
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[Which would be the exact moment to go into his story and change it up and have Jeanne and Bayonetta kiss or whatever. Instead, he sighs,]
I haven't written anything since the last time I stole the Twilight Sword.