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"Kai…I need to see if this is real, if there is really a little…church…to this supposed brother of mine. That may help me to …recall things myself." Loki converses with Kai as they look for the place. Surely not a huge temple yet…probably a cardboard box, he figures!
*
Kai walks along beside Loki faithfully, though his usually chipper countenance is marred by concern. "Are you sure it's worth the risk? Someone might recognize you or, worse, some Asgardians might be there. Last they knew you, they weren't exactly friendly to you."
*
The Church of Thor… doesn't look like a church, when the two find it.
It looks more like a boxing gym.
Probably because it is. And in the middle of the ring, surrounded by bellowing men and women alike, are two fellows going at it hammer and tongs. The big one- a strapping blonde fellow at least six feet tall, and with a chest like a slab of beef, takes two whipping blows across the jaw, stumbling, and then his opponent leaps and kicks him firmly in the stomach.
The big nordic fellow goes down with an *oof*, and his opponent lands light on her feet with a big grin, bouncing easily on athletic trainers in her jogging pants and a sports bra.
"Oof! You honor Thor with your victory, Vanessa!" the big man says, grinning boisterously as he's hauled to his feet. He grips the woman's wrist and holds her fist upwards in victory, grinning at the crowd and clearly feeling not shame at being defeated. "You'll have to teach us all that maneuver!" he says, to a chorus of applause.
"Victory and honor!" he booms. Someone passes up two large pints of beer, and he hands one to Vanessa. They clink them, slopping a fair amount into the air.
"FOR THOR!" the crowd bellows along with the big, strapping fellow, as everyone coontinues to get drunk between their apparent matches.
"Who's next? Get in the ring, I must rest and nurse my wounds- and my pride!" the fellow says, laughing at himself as he and the woman dismount the arena.
*
"That is why, my dear Kai, I have /you/. No one can simply…take me away to a deep, dark cell with a sympathetic witness." Loki purrs to the blond. He stops though, turning his face to listen to the sudden roar. He reaches out and tugs on Kai's sleeve as he pushes on the door to the gym and blends into the crowd. The cheering masses…the mortals…"I think we are safe from Asgardians. These are…idiots."
*
"The fact this is even a consideration, though," Kai says. The purr scrambles whatever else he might have to say and, resigned, he follows after Loki. He looks around the place and says, "I don't know what I was expecting, but this… this is it." He stands on his tiptoes to see above the crowd, lacking the luxury of Loki's height. "There he is," he says, pointing to Thor. "Do you recognize him?"
*
The big brawler fetches a t-shirt and shrugs into it, then accepts another mead. He's a big fellow, a few inches over six feet, with short-cropped hair and a clean-shaven jaw that resembles a lantern.
His features seem familiar enough… but to Loki's eye, only in passing. A human might see them and think him the spitting image of Thor himself, but an Asgardian would see none of the primal power of Asgard. None of the magic in the blood, the thunder under the skin, the ruddy glow of the Apples that keep immortals alive.
Just an eerie coincidence, but no doubt a cosmic trick that gives Thor's features to this… human to carry around.
"Brothers!" someone says (slurs), lurching in front of Loki and Kai. "Welcome to the Church of Thor! Have you come to join us in worship, through th' rites of *hic* battle?" the fellow says, staggering and offering them a beer.
*
Loki takes the beer and seems…enchanted, soaking everything in from a mental distance. He cannot take his eyes off the mortal…fighter. Finally he snaps free at the word 'him', and looks to Kai. "Ah…Yes…I believe so. Do you not think? So, he claims himself as Thor…Amora." He hums thoughtfully as he considers what spells the woman might have woven over the man. He wets his lips and his eyes twinkle. "Sir…yes, we /have/ come for this worship through battle." He grins crookedly, totally NOT up to something.
*
"Except he's so…" Kai may not be Asgardian, but he lives in the same zip code. The god just doesn't seem very godly. "Doesn't he seem diminished to you?" He gives the man before them a strange look, then double-takes at Loki. "We're what?" The blond elf doesn't look like he's cut out for this kind of worship. He's kind of a thin creature.
*
"Good! Drink up, fer the'… ale is… uh, somethin', Donald said it," the drunk says, gesturing vaguely at the big man. "HEY DON! WE GOT TWO MORE!"
Donald extricates himself from the crowd and approaches with a beaming smile, clapping both men on the shoulder in turn. "Welcome to the Church!" he says in a booming, jovial voice. "I hope you're not here for a sermon and guilt. Pride in combat, honor in honorable battle, and revelry for a battle well fought!"
*
Loki turns to look at Kai and then to Donald. "Worry not, Kai. I shall fight for us both." He swings his hand forward to try to clasp Donald's heartily. "Are you the leader of this…group of worship? Tell me, have you seen a gorgeous blond woman about?" Trying to make sure they aren't surrounded by danger. The dark, pale man has broad shoulders, but is dressed rather…up tight to be a proper worshipper. Upon first glance, he doesn't seem as strong as the usual brute, but the truth is that its just his mind that's suffering…and he's far from being trapped in a mortal shell. Asgardian density and strength surround him like a blanket made from really terrible ideas, and flickers of pleasant memories, an instinctual, brotherly, rivalry, from a time before things got escalated and terrible. "And when do you fight next?"
*
Kai looks up at Donald, blinking a few times. "…Of course, hello! I'm Kai, and I don't know the meaning of the word guilt." Loki gets some serious side-eye. "Are you sure you want to do this?" He glances between the two brothers. Despite his build, he is himself dense, possessed of more strength than the average mortal. But Kai's a lover, not a fighter. "I'll just take the ale," he says with a quiet sigh. Loki's making him be the voice of reason. How is this fair.
*
"Leader? No, we have no need for one. All are welcome," Donald says, shaking his head. He offers Kai a clasp of the wrist. "Well met, Kai," he tells the fellow, grinning. "We fight and honor Thor. Who needs to lead a band of merry brothers?"
Someone throws an empty beer bottle at his head, and it bounces off with a chorus of jeers. "And sisters!" he amends, hoisting his flagon at a woman nearby. She's dressed radically, in the briefest of clothing, but none seem to mind or even really leer at her. A strange camraderie, born in blood knuckles and bruises they all sport.
"I'll fight you myself, my friend," Donald offers Loki. "As for a lovely blonde, not about lately, though my lady friend Amora may stop by at some point," he tells Loki, gesturing at the ring. "Why, is she a friend of yours?" he inquires, moving to scale the ropes.
*
"Amora, yes. Ah…well, she asked me on a date, actually, but then never showed up for it." Loki, subtly, touches the lower part of Kai's back. He tips the drink back, eyeing Thor to see if that upsets him, or not. Trying to figure out the relationship that Amora and Thor are currently sharing. The sneaky devil also feels his pulse quicken, and he knits his brows faintly. There's a concerned look he turns to Kai, briefly. "He does not recall me…in any way. I am a stranger."
*
Kai smiles up at Loki at the touch. "He's not himself," he says. "I don't know what happened to him." As for himself, Kai seems a touch relieved. Not being known as 'the child of those thieves' is always a plus. "Are you going to fight him?" He watches Donald scale the ropes. "Try not to draw too much attention to yourself?" he says. He's not afraid to deploy the Big Blue Eyes.
*
"She did?" Donald pauses, then shrugs at Loki. "Well, she's left many a broken heart, or so she tells me." He strips off his shirt and tosses it aside, downing another flagon of mead, and moves to his corner, missing Kai and Loki's quiet exchange.
"We have no rules save your own sense of honor," Donald advises Loki as the other fellow enters the ring. "Fight cheaply, and you dishonor only yourself," he says, grinning. He hoists his fists and when the bell rings, starts closing the gap with Loki.
*
Fuck. Not the big blue eyes. Now what's he supposed to do? He was going to knock Thor around for funsies, but…dammit. Loki looks at Kai and then exhales an alcohol-scented breath. "Very well. I will not do anything /too/ drastic." He hands off what is left of his drink to the elf and then sheds his coat, leaving him in a dress shirt, dress pants, and shiny shoes. He does unbutton the shirt a little, at least. Black hair dusts his shoulders as he climbs into the ring to greet Donald on his own turf. "To /Thor/, right? Not some other worthy sibling?"
*
"There are many worth venerating in the halls of Odin's clan," Donald declares. "But here, we fight to glorify Thor!"
He shuffles closer to Loki, then once he's in arms' reach, launches a long, hooking jab at Loki. Clearly testing the fellow- letting him know the fight's begun, albeit perhaps not in earnest. He follows with a straight cross, a textbook move with little to celebrate or applaud.
*
Kai smiles warmly at Loki. See, when he acquiesces, he gets dimples. He takes the drink and the coat. "Good. Go get all kinds of honor." He finishes off Loki's drink, then gets one of his own, and he comes over to watch the fight from the relative safety of the audience.
*
Loki is going on instinct, and just trusting his Asgardian advantage, so that he does not appear to be particularly skilled, at first. Donald's able to tap him, and Loki moves about, trying to find the right frame of mind to activate what skills he knows he has to have. But there's something else too, enjoyment…connection. He tests on his own a little, a jab here, a swing there, but then it starts to click a little and he does a deceptive feint with his right before swinging in earnest with his left. "I'd like to see you hit me hard…jostle some things loose."
*
Donald blinks in surprise when Loki dodges with such effortless celerity. Compared to an Asgardian, most humans move like lumbering children- even a comparatively beefy fellow like Donald, against a lean fellow like Loki.
He grunts at the 'light' tap, staggered a little, and resettles his weight- Loki wants to dance, they'll dance! He mimes a feint, then rushes in with a good pair of looping swings, no longer just playing for funsies.
*
Kai drinks. This part of the worship he's on board with. The little fellow slugs down his ale as he watches the fight, and when the flagon is drained, he calls out, "Another!" He keeps a close eye on the fight, caught between pride and worry when Loki dodges so swiftly. Attention-drawing is bad, man. Once he acquires another ale, he starts in on that one with gusto.
*
Loki will be very proud of his elf for showing these rowdy fellows how a real 'cat' drinks! But, right now, he's focused on Donald, and definitely…he takes some hard hits. He's trying to unlock something and doesn't know how, so perhaps Thor's fists can help. Its a bit like hitting a punching bag though, in that Loki's form does not so easily snap backwards when he's struck. "Come, my brother, if you cannot awaken me, then I fear no one can." He wipes his hand over his mouth where he was struck, then launches back an assault to further frustrate the mortal used to winning.
*
"My br-" Loki catches Donald square in the jaw and sends him pinwheeling away, and he spits an oath mixed with blood on the ground. His eyes narrow- apparently, the strong blow has convinced Donald to take Loki a little more seriously, and so he uncoils from two strides away with a heavy, swinging roundhouse kick. Throw inexpertly, but with slightly more-than-human weight behind it. He's likely a bit denser than Kai, and carries a fair amount of muscle- but still, there's nothing -magical- about him. Perhaps more than human, and maybe some lingering aura from someone else, but he lacks the base magic of Loki, or Kai- or anyone not of Midgard.
*
The more Kai drinks, the more comfortable he is with risk-taking. Despite the fact he's drinking like a fish, he keeps on his feet easily. Once a flagon empties, he acquires another. When the blows come down in earnest, he cheers along with the rest of the crowd. For Loki? For Thor? Maybe both!
*
Loki can feel that kick….that added weight, yes, and it fires him on too, "Say it…I need to hear it in your voice." His green eyes are lit with sparks, and that kick has sent him into the springy rails. They groan. He wets his lips, tasting a tang in his mouth. He yells, an incoherant string of vowels and comes back at Donald with a twist low, aiming for a sweep.
*
Loki smacks the back of Donald's knees and the big man hits the ground with an *thumpf*. The mat drums, and the crowd goes weirdly silent. This is not mere play. Something is happening. Donald kips to his feet with a growl, and staggers right into one of Loki's crosses. He swings, misses, and takes another, trying to keep his guard up. He swings once, wildly- but Loki clearly has the upper hand and can easily pummel Donald with little reprecussion.
*
Kai shoulders his way to the front, face flushed and his eyes shining. Who knows what number flagon he's on by now. There is already one poor soul proverbially under the table because of him. "Honor!" he calls out. A cheer? Maybe a bit of a reminder.
*
Loki DID promise Kai not to draw too much attention to himself. Pummelling Donald might just do that. He's pretty sure everyone is supposed to walk away from these fights for another round. At the wild swings, Loki bobs left and right and then comes in close, snapping his hand out at Donald's forearm to try to hold him fast for a moment. Then he whispers, sweaty faces close, "I do have honor. And I am sorry for what I have done. When you come back…/forgive me/, brother. It will make sense…later." Then he lifts his voice in the quiet, cheering, "For Thor! And Honor!" in an echo of Kai, trying to end the bout there.
*
Donald almost swings at Loki. His hand curls into a fist and he's prepared to do his best to knock Loki senseless. But then the man abruptly ends the match, hailing Thor, and Donald stares at him in confusion. He loosens his fists and holds Loki's wrist up, nodding. "Aye, Hail Thor," he says, through as swollen and disfigured lip. "Well fought, sir. I didn't get your name," he tells Loki, walking towards the ring to climb out into the crowd.
*
Kai makes way for Thor as he climbs off the ropes. He claps him on the arm and says, "You fought well." For his size and build, his arm has some strength in it. "Hail Thor!" he calls out. Then he looks to Loki. He sighs, then grins stupidly. Whatever concerns he's got, they've been well-dimmed by ale and infatuation.
*
"Loki." STARE. He burrows a gaze at Donald that says this is not the last time he'll have to face this dark-haired fighter. He also slides his hand under Kai's elbow. "We should go swiftly…before Amora comes around."
*
Loki and Kai make it a few paces before Donald rights himself. "Loki." The crowd parts, and Donald- bare chested, still gulping air, wipes blood from his split lip. He spits, anger furrowing his brow. "Loki. Brother of Thor."
He starts walking towards the two men, fists clenching in anger. Something -else- fills the silence in the room. Something electric. Humming. Angry.
"You're Loki. The one who cast him from the Bifrost. Who threw my Lord from Asgard into oblivion," he snarls, pointing a finger at Loki as he closes the gap with slow, pounding strides. "And you have the gall- the lack of conscience- to come to his church, to this house of worship, and show your face to His faithful!" he roars, his voice rattling the windows. "By Odin's Beard, what manner of monster are you?" he demands.
*
Kai is all about leaving, especially after Loki says his name. "Yes, let's-" Thor's voice cuts him off. He slips in front of Loki and say, "There are extenuating circumstances, man. Let's just rap, dig? Let's just all be cool." He holds his hands up before him placatingly.
*
Loki does totally let Kai defend him, simply because if Kai is not making Thor mad, then there's a nice buffer, "I am /not/ /that/ Loki. And Thor cannot die. Coming here is not a lack of conscience, but a /summons/. For every one that celebrates him, draws him nearer."
*
Donald doesn't quite know what to say to that. "…Oh," he concludes, his dramatic finger dropping. He glances at the fellows aside him, and a fat, burly butcher shrugs at Donald.
"Well… go in peace, then, sir Loki," Donald says. "All who worship the return of Thor are… uh… well welcome," he says, clearly feeling a bit petulent about a good fight getting shortchanged.
*
Kai exhales sharply and says, "Yes, let's go in peace, Sir Loki?" He gives Loki an appealing look. The big blue eyes. He asides to Thor, "It was nice to meet you, man. This thing you got going here is far out." Sure, they should be going, and he's already nudging Loki toward the door, but he grabs another ale to guzzle on the way. "For Thor!"
*
Loki manages to keep his antics under control for them to get out the door into the relative safety of the street. "Did you feel it? The very air…I could feel it. It IS him. It must be him. But…he is still /very/ angry with me." He drums his fingers against each other. "The anger may draw him out, but…then…he'll still hate me. I have to figure out a waaaaay…" he talks aloud, to Kai, and to himself.