1963-09-24 - Jail Cell Blues
Summary: Amora wakes up in Asgard's prisons, and chats with the resident God of Mischief (Note this takes place a while back!)
Related: http://marvel1963mush.wikidot.com/log:1963-09-23-amora-s-no-good-very-bad-blot
Theme Song: None
amora louis 


Amora had been brought in, carried by the guards, unconscious. Her long golden hair a disaster, spilling over the arms that lifted the sleeping woman who had been shackled nonetheless. She was clearly dressed for the festivities above, but had lost a great deal of her finery. The guards brought her passed the Prince's cell and onwards down about three or four away from him. Then they left her with a sound of the magical field sparking to life.

Some time later Amora roused, a gagging noise escaping her as she coughed, and struggled to sit up. A few moments later came the sound of her violently retching.

*

Meanwhile, several cells over, Loki watches the procession with a curious look in his eyes. He cocks an eyebrow and rises from his seat at the table, leaving a pen to click light upon the tabletop. His hands link behind his back, eyebrows lifted with an inquisitive air to him. He reaches the edge of the anti-magic field and leans forwards as much as he can, unable to see the other occupant. Yet the sound of her retching is enough to let him know she's up and aware. At least somewhat.

"Good morning," He offers her, then he adds lightly. "If it is morning, hard to keep track of time in here."

*

A groan followed his greeting, and Amora wiped the back of her trembling hand against her damp lips. She frowned, eyeing the black mess of sludge that had been expelled from her body. The physical remains of her curse that had shot back at her. "Loki.. " She croaked, her voice raw and rough sounding.

Carefully, she dragged herself to the edge of the field that separated her from the rest of the dungeon, straightening her dress in vain. "How long.. how long have I been out?" She pressed dragged a hand through her hair, another cough escaping her.

*

"A few hours?" Loki leans forward a little more, but the cell's barrier starts to flare subtly. So he steps back and turns away from the boundary. Instead he grasps a chair by the back and slides it over towards the corner of the cell closest to Amora's, the chair legs scraping the floor steadily and then squealing a bit as he spins the seat around. Dropping down into it he lean forwards, interlacing his fingers and looking sidelong in Amora's general direction.

"So what did you do this time?"

*

A bitter smile pulled at her lips, broken by another retching as she struggled to catch her breath and respond to him again. She shivered, a cold sweat breaking out over her skin. "I didn't.. actually do anything. I wanted to … want to smack your brother till the Norns call for the end of days though.."

Bitter anger coated her voice and she pressed her head against the pillar of stone on the edge of her cell. "He.. it was the Blot. I had been drinking, as is mete for the celebrations.. He insulted me, demanded that I should still remain exiled.. after I have done everything he's asked.." She broke off and started coughing again, a whimper of annoyance following.

"So.. things happened.."

*

"You understand that I take what you say with a measure of insight and skepticism," Loki leans his shoulder against the wall beside him, lifting his eyes upwards and casually giving yet another once-over of his cell, as well as the boundaries of the barrier. He lifts a fingertip to scritch at his chin, then turns back to offer a few more words to Amora. "So by attempting to present what happened in a positive light, without informing me as to the actual events… is a disservice not only to me, but to yourself as well."

*

A groan followed and Amora shot a withering glare at the hall before her. Even if the prince didn't see it. "I'm expelling the remnants of a curse, give me a moment." She snarled, and promptly heaved again.

After she could breathe, and speak again another groan followed. "He asked me days ago to tell him anything his friends had been keeping from him. Sif hadn't informed him about you.. I did. I told him what I thought he might be ignorant of.. Tonight.. last night. " She grimaced.

"We were at the feast outside. I had been drinking. Lorelei.. had been toying with him the other night. I just let go of my control for five minutes. That's all.. he saw it as a threat. To attempt to turn him to my bed. Which I was not. I halted the magic when asked." She growled.

"Then he shouted at me for his ignorance about the Jotun attack. I didn't know that he was unaware! When has it been my duty to know what he does or does not know! I am not his Queen nor mother!"

*

Tilting his head to the side, Loki sifts through Amora's words and her usual delivery of events. A hand lifts to scratch at the side of his mouth and he get down to the details that seem to matter to him, or at the least the ones that would perhaps explain why the Enchantress is down in the dungeon with him. "What was the magic you were weaving? And who was there when you were casting?"

He takes a moment to try and reach out with his senses, extending his magical awareness and trying to catch the errant tendrils of what spells are out there… but fails with the cell being as solid as ever.

*

The anger that laced her words seemed to inflame the curse in her body and she gagged again and heaved up more of the black sludge. She sat there, trembling and shaking for a long while. "I was angry that he shouted at me. Scarlet… Fandral.. Crystal your brother's newest interest, were there. I bit my tongue. I said nothing. I sat and let him insult me. I was… sketching runes in the dirt and erasing them before they took shape. I know.. not what I ended up drawing.. but when he thundered at me that I had not changed? When he erased everything I have done for him?" She snarled, and then broke off with another whimper as her head pounded.

"He interrupted me. Yelled at me. I reached for magic I didn't have. Your father's spell still blocking most of my power.. I ended up drawing on the Blots power.."

*

Lips parting faintly into an 'ah' of understanding, Loki gives a small nod. He shakes his head and then rises from his chair, hand resting upon the back of it as he gains his feet fully. A rap of his knuckles is given to the wall before he offers a few more words. "Well, now I understand why you are here. But it's unfair isn't it, terribly tragic? Nobody understands you." He clucks his tongue slightly and shakes his head.

"Amora," Loki starts to slide his chair back towards the desk, "Practice these words, just practice saying them over and over." He clears his throat, "I am so very very sorry. I didn't know what I was doing. Please forgive me. I am so very. Very. Sorry."

*

A high pitch sound that might have been half a warble or a laugh, escaped her lips and she leaned back against the pillar that had supported her previously.

"Loki do you think that will save my neck this time? Because I don't think it's enough. Your brother wanted me exiled before.. I drew enough power to blight all of Asgard with the ritual magic. It turned a simple hex for making his cows not give milk for a night to that.. I don't even know how it snapped back at me."

*

"It is rare an Asgardian is put to death," Loki pauses there with the chair's back under his hand, then he looks to the side. "If you didn't get the spell off I doubt that you'll be given such a punishment. Most likely you will be permanently exiled. Unless you eventually demonstrate some form of value." He taps a fingertip against his chin, then shakes his head.

"I will not dissemble in this case, Amora. You are in a poor place to endure this situation. Really, Enchantress. You must learn control."

*
A sigh followed Loki's words, a faint twitch of her lips following as he spoke of permanent exile. "Would you do a girl a favor and help me set up a portal to my wardrobe in that case? I can't bare to leave my clothes behind for Lorelei to try to wear them. They wouldn't suit her at all." She mumbled, shifting to try to peer down the hall in vain and see his cell.

But the angle was too unforgiving.

"And I have control with anyone else /but/ your brother.." She rolled her eyes upwards, prodding the energy field that made up the front of her cell with her index finger. "You'll be so please. I don't love him at all anymore. In fact I'd rather say I would venture on hatred after all of this. I'm sure it will only continue after I'm dragged before the court at some point.."

*

"Honestly, Amora. At this point I don't think even you know your own mind." Loki takes up the pen from the table as well as the parchment he had been scribbling on. He lifts it up to the faint glowing globe that provides some semblance of illumination at this point, considering and then setting them both down once again. He glances aside. "In any case, I am sure we shall be brought forth to the court shortly. You had best ready your defense as you can."
*

A huff of air followed as she shifted, crossing her arms over her unsettled middle as she eyed the hall before her for lack of a Prince to glare at. "Oh yes, I should practice my 'sorry' and my tears. They won't believe it Loki, you know that. Nothing I say, will sway them to pity. Especially your father. Not when he finally has the favored, golden, son back in Asgard." She practically spat, her temper spiking before she let it go in favor of not retching horribly again.

"Just.. promise me.. that you'll visit and not leave me stuck wherever I may land alone for too long? If you think the All-father will let you out.. or me..I don't wish to be bored." A hand reached up to push her hair back from her face as she spoke, a grimace pulling at her full lips.

"I understand that you will not speak on my behalf whenever we're pulled before your father. Not that it would help my case any.." She rolled her eyes upwards. "Just come visit?"

*

Amora can't see the eye roll, though she probably can sense it. But after it's given he lifts his voice. "I promises, Amora. Now try to get some rest. And rehydrate. You sound miserable." And at that he slouches back into his chair to let the hours slip by.

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