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Kai has not known when Loki might show up to end their little dance, but today…he does. Its the day. He's ready. He has a lot of support. He hurries up the stairs once he knows that Kai is home, then throws open the door, looking frantically for him. He is going to make these moments before Hel comes to get him count!
Kai has so far been terrible at finding Loki. Just terrible. Letters have been exchanged, a lock of hair snipped when the elf was so deep in his cups he was dead to the world, but he's not actually seen nor spoken to his beloved for some time now. He's in his flat tonight, and Jay is out taking Kevin for a walk. The elf is sprawled on the couch, making another sketch. This one is of Kevin in a play pose with a crystal apple in front of him like a ball.
Loki rushes at the couch, once he sees Kai, and murmurs, "I'm too jealous of that winged fellow to not see you another moment. Move these!" And he snaps up the drawing book from Kai's hands and tosses it on the coffee table before trying to put both hands on the sides of his face and kissing him, desperately.
Kai relinquishes the sketchbook and says, "You shouldn't be here!" But he throws his arms around Loki and kisses him with fervor. If the damage is done, then damn it, he's going to get as much out of these last moments as he can. Tears well up in his eyes, a few rolling down his cheeks, but he doesn't care. Loki's here.
|ROLL| Hela +rolls 1d20 for: 14
Loki does not make Kai feel at all bad for the tears, since his own eyes look moist too. Not crying, but…moist. Touched. SO GLAD to hold him. "Its going to be well again, Beloved. I promise. I promise. You trust me." Then he falls back to kissing again, running his hand through those golden curls. Its a disgusting amount of affection, really. "I love you, you know that. I will destroy the world if I do not get you back."
Paper does not move. Charcoal simply skews off the grain and Kevin the dog has neither a nose or an apple. The shaded distinctions give rise to a simple deepening shadow, elongating like a fern uncurling to the sun. Fine lines open from a radiating backbone. Limbs unfold and she straightens. Feathers spike back from the lowered helm concealing her face, a full metallic coronet and ruff to contrast the weighted and tangled braids of various sizes and thicknesses. Armour slides over the figure, spun out in a spreading inkstain. It's only that her bare feet that go without some kind of coverage. ::// One greets the ljosalf and Aesir.// ::
She does speak. It's more that she can be heard, her formality correct and utterly cutting through typical issues of distance for its whispering clarity.
"I love you, too," Kai says, sniffling. "Don't destroy the world, love. It's where all of my things are." He kisses Loki again, hugging him close. "I missed you so much," he whispers. "In that place, what they did to me. All I wanted was to see you again." Then she manifests, and Kai holds Loki closer still, trembling. "Whatever happens," he whispers quickly, "I love you. I always will." He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and says more clearly, "Yes, you've found us."
Loki holds Kai closer, protectively, and faces the charcoal-become-person. "Go back to Hel. This one is mine. I know not why you collude with the Accursed, but I thought you had better honor than that." Well, so much for polite, apparently.
The view of those impossibly clear eyes is dimmed by the helm. Yet every fine detail is orchestrated in monochrome right down to the patterned designs on her bare toes. :: His location is known. The Aesir is mistaken and misguided. Naught has this to do with a curse or the Accursed. ::
Chalk it up to absolutely no idea of humour or a certain literalness. The woman isn't precisely daunted by the reaction to her; it's probably a default position or the laughter, fear, and doubts are stripped away to become as she is.
:: // A promise was made. The conditions were clear. He swore. A longer stay was permitted to him, so long as he fulfilled its terms fairly. The bargain she upheld, Loki of Asgard. Kai, child of Alfheim, has what he sought. It is time.// :: Her gaze moves slightly to the Asgardian. :: Do Aesir break their oaths and promises?
"It was my oath," Kai says. Graciously, he leaves out the part where no one told him he was swearing an oath. Though she does get a glower, briefly. Then he sniffles and sits up, and he sweeps a lock of Loki's hair from his brow. "It was my oath, not his. He's not bound to it. You said 'if' he chooses to come. If. That implies he has a choice."
"I have no idea what you speak of. You must, I am afraid, explain from the very beginning what has occurred." Loki answers to the practical and unhumored diety. "What oaths and promises?" He runs his hand down Kai's side, his thumb digging into his skin greedily.
The woman does not need to draw herself any taller or make shows of action. By not moving anything more than her dark lips, she is the model of restraint and a primal unease that goes as deep as marrow. Any emotion shading her features is probably imagined. :: Yes. The ljosalf sought the Aesir, his lover, to stay with him, for as long as he could hold him. She gave the ljosalf opportunity to make the offer. That time is gone and will not return. The Aesir may refuse to go with him. Say no, Loki of Asgard, and remain on Midgard. But the ljosalf has not that choice. He came temporarily to Midgard by petitioning her of his love. She honoured his request. ::
Kai cups Loki's cheek in his hand. "I have to go," he says softly. "But I won't lose home, love." Even if there is an audience, he doesn't let it stop him from claiming another kiss. Then he murmurs, "Refuse me. I will wait for you." He swallows, and he adds, his voice hoarse, "Forgive Bucky for what he did. He had no choice, and he kept them from breaking me. I love you so much, my moon and stars." The tears start to fall again, and he just lets them.
Loki rises up from the couch and stands between the weird messenger and her target, "I have my own offer. Obviously, this one is meant to entrap my soul. Burned…was she…when I avoided her this most recent time of death? I have one need in this world, and that is my Kai, this soul, this one. I need him for many centuries, in fact, as long as his elf years persist. We are bonded in the old way, through string and oath. It was Malekith who plotted to have some revenge upon me, and trapped him and killed him, for such amusement, and as that is concerned, I will focus my vengeance upon the Accursed, for this…misunderstanding. Deny me this elf, and I will forge my way into Hel my OWN way, with my own army, and make such a destruction of her forces that it will be centuries before she can hope to wage war upon Valhalla. Or, perhaps I will unleash the dead-eaters…I know where they are, too." He snaps his fingers and his attire, which was in a muted Asgardian fashion, changes into leather, and his brilliant helm shimmers into existance upon his head, bold and threatening. Though Kai has accepted his fate, it seems that Loki, of Asgard, is far from doing so. "I have forgiven Bucky…and I will refuse to go with you, if she insists on taking you from me, but not because I forsake you, and not because I am afraid. I will refuse because I do not accept this fate for us, and I will cause such havok that keeping you will not be worth it. You are, after all, not a fighter, but a lover. I will not let you be a pawn."
The floating Vanir warrior tilts her helmed head. Trying to intimidate a charcoal drawing of a figure is particularly tricky, perhaps. :: One has not met Loki of Asgard. ::
She goes silent while he describes his intentions thus. The narrow line of her dark mouth and those unreachable grey eyes give away no emotions. It's not like Kai drew the apple with any. Kevin's nose does not make for the abundant material to show it. Stillness courses to motion as she lifts her hand.
:: Where the dead travel is not something she or her sisters can change, Aesir. The means of death is not relevant. The ljosalf came in accordance with the greater laws older than even the Aesir themselves. ::
:: He cannot return to the Nine Realms as his place is set in Niflheim. :: She nods to Kai, wet-eyed, prepared. Her hand is still held to him.
:: Know this clearly, Aesir: she cannot break the law any more than Odin All-Father can restore his eye or Ragnarok cease. :: In those words without any inflection of emotion is an absolute weight, something immeasurably certain. It's the way a person speaks their name. They know it. It is.
:: They may not violate the way of things, even if they wish. She did not create the order and partition of the worlds. He asks what is not possible for her or her sisters to do. She has no way to do it. ::
Kai watches Loki become the great prince of Asgard that he is, in all his regalia, and the elf's eyes widen. Breathless, he says, "My most beloved Lord." He rises to his feet, not taking the charcoal woman's offered hand, but rather coming to Loki's side. "You are Loki of Asgard," he tells him. "There's no prison that can keep me so long as you draw breath. It's not her fault, nor yours, nor mine. If I must return to Hel, then I know you will break down the gates and bring me home." He runs fingertips down Loki's arm, gazing up at him with a soft smile. "Don't you see, it will be all right? I know it will."
Loki makes a motion with his hands and he blocks Kai's soul with his own, which she is not allowed to touch. "Tell your mistress that I am coming for her. She may briefly hold what I want, but if she dares to try to keep it, I will lay such waste to Hel that will defy any convention. I will make such deals across the universe that she cannot withstand the combined might of a multitude of pantheons. And tomorrow, will be but the barest beginning." He lifts his chin, helm gleaming, then turns to look at Kai again and he nods. "I know it will be right, again, Kai. I love you." He cannot help but to appear watery-eyed again, though, as he makes space for the devil to pass to Kai.
Her voice is grey as she is grey, an ornate sketch of twisted braids and stylized feathers and the sleek armour. Not a trace of colour stains the floor where her foot floats higher. Answer is forthcoming in the same solemn, even tones as they've ever heard her speak. It's not like she has alternatives.
:: Her sisters acknowledge his denial. ::
Her price takes but a single touch of the ashen fingertip to Kai's arm. With the initial brush of connection, the elf might feel that stranger sense of lightness folding around him. Nothing like travelling the Bifrost at immense speed, this transition that streaks as light as gossamer suspended in the ocean. He floats lighter than a feather into the embrace of infinity.
In a blink, charcoal strikes the page it was drawn from. No apple and no nose. Alas, not very much exciting except for a smudge. She's not very good at drawing.
"I love you," Kai says, his gaze awed at his love in full form, a Prince of Asgard swearing such things in his behalf. If Kai ever had any doubts about Loki, they're gone. He kisses him full on the mouth, then draws back and tell shim, "Until we meet again, love." Then he's touched by that single fingertip, and he is gone, the last thing he sees in this world being the face of his dearest.