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Loki sweeps out of the tenement with a sway of his hips and a walk that just screams confidence, in every way. He is dressed in leather pants with braided sections, and a tunic in a patterned green and black, with boots that are out of this world and trimmed out in gold. His black hair is left long around his shoulders and he seems every bit like he's been busted…the moment he notices that Gene is right there in the hallway. His trickster lips curve into a smile anyway, though, as he prepares to lie his ass off. "Why hellooooo…" he purrs.
*
Gene is right there in all his glory. He pulls his bathroble closed around him, even though he's wearing pajamas. The bag of trash he's holding pauses midair as he sees the fancy dressing Loki. He leaves his cigarette dangling from his lip as he opens the garbage chute and gets rid of a week of beer cans, cigarette butts, and food packages. "Yeah…hello. You're that kid's friend…sorry. I forget your name. Art dealer, rght?"
*
"I'm whatever and whoever you think, right now." Loki looks the man up and down and chuckles, a crooked grin slicing his face. "I guess anything goes in these hallways, hmmm?" He comes over closer and tries to snatch the cigarette from his mouth.
*
Gene pulls back and tries to knock Loki's arm away from his cigarette in surprise. He's not used to or welcoming of people invading his space. "What are you…I think you're probably high right now."
*
The Asgardian pulls his hand back but leans against the side of Gene's doorway, trying to push it open with one hand, being nosy. "I am not high. That is a wrong answer. It would take the fruit of the dragon horde of Alwanque to make me high, I believe." He winks. "Working on any projects, Inspector?"
*
His nostrils flare slightly as he gets the scent of the man. Something is wrong with it all, but he can't figure it out. "Are you inviting yourself in? You sure sound like you're high. I'm working on several things." Gene shakes his head a little. "I'm a private investigator. I ain't a cop."
*
"Investigator, that's it. Yes." Loki narrows his eyes. "I am just…different. I was going to peek and see your reaction. Do you mind company? Do you want to get dressed first?"
*
Gene Fuchs says, "Get dressed first? Before what? I was planning to pull on some pants and a shirt, though. I don't give a shit. Come in if you want." His sharp eyes try to spy if the man is carrying any sort of weapon. "Different? You said it, pal!" He smirks and turns to go back into his office/apartment. Maybe he can find out a little mor eabout Kai's mysterious friend."
*
Loki goes on into Gene's apartment, drifting his fingertips over the table by the door or whatever else is close by. "Before I come in. That's all. But come in with me and get dressed. Its not like I haven't seen a naked man before. Like the fire jump." Loki says lowly, green eyes flitting about.
*
"And it ain't like I don't have a bathroom either." Gene follows Loki in. His fold out couch/bed is open and messed up. Gene goes over, grabs his jeans off the bed and a tshirt, and he pops into the bathroom. As he pulls on his pants and a white tshirt, he calls out, "Seriously. What's your name again, pal?" There are a few things. There's a photograph on his desk. The black and white photo is of about eight or nine soldiers, mugging for the camera from a trench, some flipping it the bird. Some are just in their tshirts, others are wearing their full fatigues. All very young, leaning on each other and laughing, cigarettes trailing from their lips. A couple of the faces are Asian.
*
"Who are the soldiers?" Loki asks his own question in return, "I go by Serrure…French, if you recall. And its not an art store, its a book store. My friend, Kai, is the artist." He clarifies his lies and truths easily enough once pressed about it. "Were you a soldier?"
*
"That's right. I remember it was French. I don't speak French." He pulls on the bottom of his tshirt as he walks out, still in his slippers though. "Yeah. I was a soldier. I served in Korea. Your friend Kai is quite the artist. He said you sponsor him. I thought you had a studio. I saw some of his works. He takes a damn good photo, too." Gene watches Loki like a hawk. He's not really suspecting anything, it's just what he does. ANd, teh guy makes him nervous. He crosses the apartment to the kitchen area. "Want some orange juice?"
*
"Yes. The juice of an orange sounds nice." Loki is kinda the sort ot make a person twitchy, but he doesn't actually do anything worth fussing about. Just sort of wanders around and touches stuff, without hurting it. "Kai is quite the 'alot of things'. A very unique and talented individual." He grins to himself. "Anyone else live here?"
*
Gene takes out the bottle of juice and gives it a shake before pouring two miss matched glasses. He looks around the one room apartment. "Does it look like anyone else lives here? No. Just me." He walks over and hands the orange juice to Loki. "No one else would like in a hole like this, right?" He goes over to his desk and pulls a bottle of vodka from a drawer. He doctors his orange juice and turns to Loki. "You want to give it some gas?"
*
Loki holds out his glass for Gene and smiles faintly. "Absolutely. Make it about half and half, hmmm?" His eyes glint. "Some people in this apartment barely hang on to being homeless, from time to time, so…I have no idea how many people you might be letting in through the window.
*
Gene magically turns Loki's orange juice into a very strong screwdriver. He puts the bottle back in the desk drawer. "Just me. Relationship and roommates are not my forte." Takes a drink and enjoys the sting as it goes down. "It's a dump. You're right. So why are you here anyway? You seem like you have a little more money."
*
"I do, but Kai likes it here. He likes to help the people here, and that's a little harder to do when you are living in a high rise somewhere. Now…between you and I? I definitely want to…ahhh…fancy the place up a bit." He takes a long drink and seems unphased.
*
"Kai likes to help people," Gene says a little disdainfully, then he shrugs, "He helped me out with something, so I guess I can't say much." He sits down in his desk chair and swivels around watching Loki. "This place can't be fancied. You can't polish a turd."
*
"Oh Iiiiiiii can." Loki smiles again, then drinks down the rest of the screwdriver and sets it on the windowsill. "He's being paid to help you, or at least that's what he told me. So, what gets you up in the morning if you don't like people?"
*
"Yeah, I paid him. Pretty good." He takes a sip and smiles a little. "I didn't say I didn't like people. People are interesting. Everybody is a little different, but just the same. They do stupid shit and think they won't get caught. They live in shitty buildings when they don't have to. They make fools of themselves just to get a little attention." He looks over at Loki. "They come in all sizes and shapes, and all have stories. Where are you from?"
*
Loki walks closer to Gene and looks at the picture of the soldiers, then back to the investigator. "Are you certain that you want to know that? Knowing that, beyond 'France', pulls you to a whole other world of both wonder…and deadly threat."
*
Gene follows Loki's eyes to the only photo in his apartment. At least one that is displayed. He hesitates, "You're different. I don't need to know, but you make me nervous. I kinda like that little guy up there…" He trails off, not quite sure what he planned to say. "None of my business."
*
"Little guy? YOu mean Kai…or the dog?" Loki grins crookedly.
*
"Kai. The dog is quiet. Which I like just fine, too." Gene shakes his head.
*
"Yes, Kai is a wonderful person. He's kind, also, and puts a great deal of faith in people to be decent, which, I must say, does let him down." Loki draws in a deep breath. "I think you do a bit of specializing in 'none of your business', if we are being honest with each other."
*
Gene shrugs, "It's my job to figure out what people don't want me to figure out. But, nobody has paid me to figure you out, so I'm not going to bother with it so long as you don't get in my way…though I don't know why you would."