[ Originally, Chris had considered naming a little bistro on Risa, since the Enterprise was scheduled for shore leave there, and he still wasn't sure that inviting Loki on board was a good idea. But then space intervened as space is often wont to do, and the Enterprise wound up being surprised by a fleet of Romulan dogfighters, a skirmish that wound up taking so long, and inflicting so much damage, that they had to limp their way back into Federation space and entirely missed their scheduled leave.
So it was just as well, really, that Chris hadn't suggested Risa after all.
He'd managed to convince Number One not to accompany him on this little excursion — he admires her commitment to his safety, and is happy to admit that she has a point and he should be less cavalier with his own life in the face of the unknown, but Chris knows how he's going to die and one flirty alien godling isn't going to be the end of him, so everyone can just relax alright — and instead distracted her with fixing up the damage their ship had endured, which is how Chris finds himself dressed in his civvies, wandering an alien market, his universal translator clipped to his breast pocket as he examines the oddly-glistening wares laid out on the table before him, the alien vendor blinking her segmented eyes at him suspiciously as she watched him watch her. Humans don't often come this far out into uncharted space, after all.
Either Loki will come or he won't. After two hours, he's got a scheduled check-in with the crew, and if worst comes to worst, he can just enjoy an afternoon away from work with nobody trying to kill him. Hopefully. ]
[ Loki does, in fact, appear on the balcony of Tony's penthouse, mainly because of the accessibility and less fuss requiring security issues when you can walk directly up skyscrapers in Seven-League boots. He faces the apartment with his legs dangling, on his phone, wearing a tshirt with the sleeves rolled up and black jeans, horns gleaming as if no more than a lazy cosplayer who managed to scale Stark's home. ]
i'm in ur penthouse sitting on ur balconies 3>:)
[ The only reason he doesn't go any further has to do with his own Stark: Loki has no desire to be clamped to a wall in some weird sex-dungeon style without warning. Not again. That was so abrupt and disorientating when the floor turned into a trapdoor at Avenger Tower, last time. Who knows what kind of anti-Loki protocols this dimension's Stark has! The last time he was on Earth-199999, there were ... five Avengers? Six? There must be hundreds by now, surely. Their Loki can't have laid low all that while.
So, he waits. Kicks his heels on the glass balcony and sparking green magic as his boots connect with it. ]
[ The ship isn't far off his sci-fi graphic novels, about as big and sweepingly clean as he imagined with some cute as fuck uniforms going around. Their security isn't god-proof, however, and it certainly isn't Loki-proof, so he infiltrates The Enterprise with ease (it's not their fault, no shade!) and spends a day acclimating to their computer system. Being a hacker who has gotten inside Stark's tower before, Loki manages well and then, once he has decided on a backstory and persona, stops being invisible with the use of his shadowthread coat. He opts for blue, the irony of being a science officer immensely appealing, and goes by Lieutenant Lukas if anyone asks ... and they do, because he's an amiable fellow with a charming smile, with a handful of friends by his second day. Chris is spotted three times, always from a distance as Loki melts into the background. The captain is businesslike without being cold, professional while showing courtesy, and Loki builds up a better picture of why the crew (even the lowest of underlings) seems to like him so much. They respect and trust him on their voyage.
And, sure, Loki could have waltzed into Chris's quarters on day one but where would the fun have been in that? He learns some of the Starfleet lingo and fraternises with his new friends, making a small groove for himself in the unwitting kindness of the ship's beating heart, and it's fun. He's not half-bad at the jobs he gives himself, shrugging when other officers consult their amended rotas and complain about their superiors moving things around again without a heads-up: but they never blame the apologetic lieutenant who suggests he could benefit from their help, not once.
On the fourth day, Loki decides to amp up his game and roots out where Chris is. On his way from the bridge with some of the senior staff, Chris looks like he's happily drowning in his job and it occurs to Loki that he ought to let him get on with it, there are surely important things Chris is taking care of, but then he feels a jealous tug in his chest at the idea of going unseen for another day running and a possessive streak wins out, prompting him to spend a moment too long looking at Captain Pike as they pass in the corridor — up and down with a flirtatious smile curling in the corner of his lips — before continuing on with the ensign at his side, not hearing a word she says about the report he's holding. ]
[ Montana is a lot like Asgard: mountains, wide plains, big scary moose. Loki intends to visit when it's snowy but the season is warm and all around are tall green trees, the exact kind of weather that puts his son at ease as soon as the green portal closes behind them. Sleipnir is saddled and Loki holds his reins to loosely guide him where he walks alongside, although they both stop and look around in interest for a moment once they arrive. ]
You won't lack room to run, at least. That must be the cabin ahead; be nice to his horses, please.
[ Sleipnir snorts a noncommittal answer that could be See if they're dicks to me, first.
They walk up to Chris's cabin, still taking in the scenery. Loki knocks on the door and finally lets Sleipnir's reins go so he can nose around the open garden, his own hands sweatier than usual and requiring wiping on his pants. He wears a shirt with the sleeves rolled up, helm missing and for all intents and purposes a visitor who just wandered up to the house our of thin air.
Sleipnir nudges between Loki's shoulders, prompting him to half-turn and scratch under the great black head of his child, petting his muzzle. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
some unknown planet somewhere deep in space it's all a lot of ???
So it was just as well, really, that Chris hadn't suggested Risa after all.
He'd managed to convince Number One not to accompany him on this little excursion — he admires her commitment to his safety, and is happy to admit that she has a point and he should be less cavalier with his own life in the face of the unknown, but Chris knows how he's going to die and one flirty alien godling isn't going to be the end of him, so everyone can just relax alright — and instead distracted her with fixing up the damage their ship had endured, which is how Chris finds himself dressed in his civvies, wandering an alien market, his universal translator clipped to his breast pocket as he examines the oddly-glistening wares laid out on the table before him, the alien vendor blinking her segmented eyes at him suspiciously as she watched him watch her. Humans don't often come this far out into uncharted space, after all.
Either Loki will come or he won't. After two hours, he's got a scheduled check-in with the crew, and if worst comes to worst, he can just enjoy an afternoon away from work with nobody trying to kill him. Hopefully. ]
here we go lads here we gooo
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
for @ironism.
[ Loki does, in fact, appear on the balcony of Tony's penthouse, mainly because of the accessibility and less fuss requiring security issues when you can walk directly up skyscrapers in Seven-League boots. He faces the apartment with his legs dangling, on his phone, wearing a tshirt with the sleeves rolled up and black jeans, horns gleaming as if no more than a lazy cosplayer who managed to scale Stark's home. ]
i'm in ur penthouse sitting on ur balconies 3>:)
[ The only reason he doesn't go any further has to do with his own Stark: Loki has no desire to be clamped to a wall in some weird sex-dungeon style without warning. Not again. That was so abrupt and disorientating when the floor turned into a trapdoor at Avenger Tower, last time. Who knows what kind of anti-Loki protocols this dimension's Stark has! The last time he was on Earth-199999, there were ... five Avengers? Six? There must be hundreds by now, surely. Their Loki can't have laid low all that while.
So, he waits. Kicks his heels on the glass balcony and sparking green magic as his boots connect with it. ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
( bothering chris pike, VOL II )
And, sure, Loki could have waltzed into Chris's quarters on day one but where would the fun have been in that? He learns some of the Starfleet lingo and fraternises with his new friends, making a small groove for himself in the unwitting kindness of the ship's beating heart, and it's fun. He's not half-bad at the jobs he gives himself, shrugging when other officers consult their amended rotas and complain about their superiors moving things around again without a heads-up: but they never blame the apologetic lieutenant who suggests he could benefit from their help, not once.
On the fourth day, Loki decides to amp up his game and roots out where Chris is. On his way from the bridge with some of the senior staff, Chris looks like he's happily drowning in his job and it occurs to Loki that he ought to let him get on with it, there are surely important things Chris is taking care of, but then he feels a jealous tug in his chest at the idea of going unseen for another day running and a possessive streak wins out, prompting him to spend a moment too long looking at Captain Pike as they pass in the corridor — up and down with a flirtatious smile curling in the corner of his lips — before continuing on with the ensign at his side, not hearing a word she says about the report he's holding. ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
( MONTANAAA, @ chris pike III )
You won't lack room to run, at least. That must be the cabin ahead; be nice to his horses, please.
[ Sleipnir snorts a noncommittal answer that could be See if they're dicks to me, first.
They walk up to Chris's cabin, still taking in the scenery. Loki knocks on the door and finally lets Sleipnir's reins go so he can nose around the open garden, his own hands sweatier than usual and requiring wiping on his pants. He wears a shirt with the sleeves rolled up, helm missing and for all intents and purposes a visitor who just wandered up to the house our of thin air.
Sleipnir nudges between Loki's shoulders, prompting him to half-turn and scratch under the great black head of his child, petting his muzzle. ]
I'm not nervous, don't be silly.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...