[ He bites his lip, covers his mouth to keep his smile down, and waves from Stephen to go on. Far be it from Loki to stifle any confessions or admissions made while soaking up the best of the bar's offerings. ]
You did not, go ahead. What did you do in that other Earth's dimension?
[ A lift of one brow, the pinch of a smirk. Where's your princely decorum now? But it's allowed to pass without comment, because he can do one better. ]
Kids parties.
[ One better? Sorry, that was one worse. He looks like he's enjoying the reveal though: he absolutely did not appreciate anyone finding out at the time, but in hindsight it's pretty funny. ]
[ He's settling back into his seat with a gleeful little smirk at Loki's reaction - tearing one's own hard-won Serious Sorcerer reputation to shreds is a dish best served in good company. ]
I did other events, but once you've done one party for one kid, every parent wants you. [ A pause. He squints, gaze drifting upwards as he tracks through the insinuation he's just made, deciding whether he's going to cut it off before it can start - ] Yeah, no, you can take that however.
[ It's silly things like this that make Loki feel relaxed around Stephen, shit such as entertaining children at birthday parties would be galling to the very core of Earth-616's Strange and the differences between them are made all the more apparent when Stephen can laugh at himself. Well, smirk.
Resting his chin in a hand, he sips his drink and gestures casually with it. A leery eye rides his twitching, teasing smile. ]
Speaking as a parent, I can heavily relate. [ Badumpsh. ] How long did you do that sort of thing?
[ Hah. A huff and a brief involuntary sharpening of his smile as his eyes lock with Loki's, laughter with the barest voice, I see what you did there, but he otherwise doesn't break stride, expression slanting sideways as he sifts through his layered-up lives for the answer to that question. Then it occurs to him he can check, and for a few seconds something in the focus of his eyes shifts and flickers as he accesses his implant, information on an invisible screen.
He refocuses on Loki with a blink before giving his answer. ]
Six months, give or take, then occasionally after that for special appearances. As you can imagine [ Loki knows more than one of him, he can only assume they all have their pride, ] it took me a little while to get into it, but I woke up one day with a performance licence, a website and a social media following, and trying to play entry-level neuroscientific researcher wasn't working out for me. So what're you going to do?
[ What you're going to do is take the jobs where they come to keep the lights on, and accept it as one of many begrudging lessons in humility. ]
Ran out of time for it eventually, but I didn't completely hate it in retrospect, so I'll call it an overall win.
[ It honestly looks like Stephen is spacing out a little from too much Asgardian ale, so Loki (similarly tipsy) doesn't notice anything weird. He does find it impossible to look away from him as Stephen talks, mildly unable to believe he did party tricks to get by in a dimension where everything was so fucked they didn't need his greater prowess in the field as a hero. ]
I was in that other world, you once said. Is it a win finding me again?
[ He lets that question hang in the air for the length of another swallow (he should stop soon, really), peering at Loki over the glass edge, alight with incoming mischief. Then his face scrunches a little, nose wrinkling, gaze drifting to the side, indecision's picture. ]
I don't know about a win...
[ It's a very bad performance. Which is both inevitable and the point. ]
[ He slides his drink to one side and hoists himself up on the table, leaning over on a bent elbow to do nothing so much as display his long lean body and tilt a look up at Stephen. ]
Because it took you months to want to share a private booth in this bar with me, so you can't have been halfway to that with him. I like to think you're not interested in Lokis in general, all evidence speaking to the contrary.
[ A lopsided stretch of his smile into a grin, wonder mixing with pride and an odd tenderness that causes him to clarify: ]
I knew him for two years. The two of you are as different as you are alike. I'm not the me you know, am I? Not even the me you knew two months ago.
[ He frowns as the meaning in that clouds around the edges, then shores up his smirk ready for the final clarifying blow. The barlight turns it softer at its corners: blade turned butter knife. ]
The draw's not between you and him. The draw's between you and me. I found you here, and here I am. You're welcome.
[ The alcohol strips out the kinder core of the point that had him voice any of this in the first place, but he doesn't notice. The message wrapped up in there somewhere: I'm a joy and a delight, (and a nightmare and a pain), and the quality of company exchanged in the finding of Loki Laufeyson here is fair and equivalent. A win for both parties. Draw. ]
That's a long-winded way of saying I'm your BFF in this dimension.
[ He's not sure what he should be grateful for, though he is, because he can sense the sentiment even if he's too far gone on drinks to follow up with some smart wordplay. The Silvertongue could, the immortal god could, but the twenty-something wondering why he can't just be told Yes, you're my Favourite Loki by anyone (save to himself) just sits up on the table and leans on his folded knees. ]
Which could be part of my diabolical plan, you just don't know.
[ A shrug, easy. Anything being possible, there may come a day he's given cause to seriously doubt Loki or his intentions. At this point he thinks it about as likely as being given cause to doubt Tony or Damian. Nothing that needs planning for.
He sets his glass down, finally, to one side of Loki. ]
[ Loki brings his knees up, an arm wrapped around them as he plays with his empty glass, tapping it against a knee. ]
If you say the reward is my friendship, I'll turn into a pony right here and now.
[ He does shimmer with green but it only scours away the smart shirt and tie combo, leaving him in the comfortable jeans and soft green hoodie he favours most.
The glass is tapped near Stephen's edge of the table. ]
We should go get a bucket of fried chicken before we crash. Lots of little saucy pots. Pots of sauce. You know.
I do know. [ There's comfort in Loki's return to his most comfortable, and Stephen tries offering some back with the swift answer to that call to motion. Yes. Let's go. ] I think that sounds like a very good plan.
[ It's with an old man's gear-up - a couple of preparatory back and forth rocks on his seat - that Stephen eases himself up to standing. The pat to Loki's knee is only a little bit to offset the overbalance. ]
Come on. Before you turn into anything you regret.
I never regret anything I turn into! Except bears. They leave a weird aftertaste like the fuzz of a peach on your tongue ...
[ He hooks a stabilising hand into Stephen's clothing and opens a portal for them, muttering all the way through it about why being a snake is superior to almost any other animal, including the pro "you can swim in a glass of ale". ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ He bites his lip, covers his mouth to keep his smile down, and waves from Stephen to go on. Far be it from Loki to stifle any confessions or admissions made while soaking up the best of the bar's offerings. ]
You did not, go ahead. What did you do in that other Earth's dimension?
no subject
Kids parties.
[ One better? Sorry, that was one worse. He looks like he's enjoying the reveal though: he absolutely did not appreciate anyone finding out at the time, but in hindsight it's pretty funny. ]
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[ Loki leaaaans forward, lips parting on a fascinated, delighted smile. ]
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[ He's settling back into his seat with a gleeful little smirk at Loki's reaction - tearing one's own hard-won Serious Sorcerer reputation to shreds is a dish best served in good company. ]
I did other events, but once you've done one party for one kid, every parent wants you. [ A pause. He squints, gaze drifting upwards as he tracks through the insinuation he's just made, deciding whether he's going to cut it off before it can start - ] Yeah, no, you can take that however.
no subject
Resting his chin in a hand, he sips his drink and gestures casually with it. A leery eye rides his twitching, teasing smile. ]
Speaking as a parent, I can heavily relate. [ Badumpsh. ] How long did you do that sort of thing?
no subject
He refocuses on Loki with a blink before giving his answer. ]
Six months, give or take, then occasionally after that for special appearances. As you can imagine [ Loki knows more than one of him, he can only assume they all have their pride, ] it took me a little while to get into it, but I woke up one day with a performance licence, a website and a social media following, and trying to play entry-level neuroscientific researcher wasn't working out for me. So what're you going to do?
[ What you're going to do is take the jobs where they come to keep the lights on, and accept it as one of many begrudging lessons in humility. ]
Ran out of time for it eventually, but I didn't completely hate it in retrospect, so I'll call it an overall win.
no subject
I was in that other world, you once said. Is it a win finding me again?
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I don't know about a win...
[ It's a very bad performance. Which is both inevitable and the point. ]
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I'm taking back the bar.
[ He reaches for Stephen's glass -! ]
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[ Pulls his glass back and raises it... vaguely level with his head! Thank you for your service as obstacle, table. ]
It was a draw.
[ ??? ]
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[ He slides his drink to one side and hoists himself up on the table, leaning over on a bent elbow to do nothing so much as display his long lean body and tilt a look up at Stephen. ]
Because it took you months to want to share a private booth in this bar with me, so you can't have been halfway to that with him. I like to think you're not interested in Lokis in general, all evidence speaking to the contrary.
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Are you jealous?
[ Mild wonder, mingling with disbelief and the beginnings of childish delight. ]
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[ ... That came out way too drunk. ]
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I knew him for two years. The two of you are as different as you are alike. I'm not the me you know, am I? Not even the me you knew two months ago.
[ He frowns as the meaning in that clouds around the edges, then shores up his smirk ready for the final clarifying blow. The barlight turns it softer at its corners: blade turned butter knife. ]
The draw's not between you and him. The draw's between you and me. I found you here, and here I am. You're welcome.
[ The alcohol strips out the kinder core of the point that had him voice any of this in the first place, but he doesn't notice. The message wrapped up in there somewhere: I'm a joy and a delight, (and a nightmare and a pain), and the quality of company exchanged in the finding of Loki Laufeyson here is fair and equivalent. A win for both parties. Draw. ]
no subject
[ He's not sure what he should be grateful for, though he is, because he can sense the sentiment even if he's too far gone on drinks to follow up with some smart wordplay. The Silvertongue could, the immortal god could, but the twenty-something wondering why he can't just be told Yes, you're my Favourite Loki by anyone (save to himself) just sits up on the table and leans on his folded knees. ]
Which could be part of my diabolical plan, you just don't know.
[ Siiiip. ]
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[ A shrug, easy. Anything being possible, there may come a day he's given cause to seriously doubt Loki or his intentions. At this point he thinks it about as likely as being given cause to doubt Tony or Damian. Nothing that needs planning for.
He sets his glass down, finally, to one side of Loki. ]
The reward justifies the risk.
no subject
If you say the reward is my friendship, I'll turn into a pony right here and now.
[ He does shimmer with green but it only scours away the smart shirt and tie combo, leaving him in the comfortable jeans and soft green hoodie he favours most.
The glass is tapped near Stephen's edge of the table. ]
We should go get a bucket of fried chicken before we crash. Lots of little saucy pots. Pots of sauce. You know.
no subject
[ It's with an old man's gear-up - a couple of preparatory back and forth rocks on his seat - that Stephen eases himself up to standing. The pat to Loki's knee is only a little bit to offset the overbalance. ]
Come on. Before you turn into anything you regret.
no subject
[ He hooks a stabilising hand into Stephen's clothing and opens a portal for them, muttering all the way through it about why being a snake is superior to almost any other animal, including the pro "you can swim in a glass of ale". ]