Loki has been, since he arrived, quietly delving into the mysteries of his own nature. Odin, back in his world, would proclaim himself god of wisdom one day and the next scold Loki for thinking himself divine. It always seemed absurdly inconsistent. And for the longest time it was easier to assume malice on Odin's part, rather than an awkward way of communicating a truth too complicated to be put easily into words. Even in the Allspeech.
Reality is malleable. Reality is contradictory. They are both gods and mortals, story-creatures beholden to the humanity that invented them, and elemental beings that hold sway over their followers. The multiverse is strange that way. More so than many people are equipped to take in. But Loki, at least, is comfortable with his own cognitive dissonance. And even now he is willing to find out he is wrong, provided the next step is to a step up.
In any event, he's looking for believers. He has no details in his plan, but he does know if he has any hope of vengeance against Thanos or of reaching out to assist his brother against the Mad Titan, he will have to gather resources, knowledge, and power like never before in his existence.
So. He's stumbled across someone who not only knows his name but has some awe for it. It's a bit like hitting the jackpot. The back of his neck prickles, and he takes a moment to clear his throat and fold his hands behind him, much like Frigga used to when she was teaching him about the weather, or the stars.
"I am reasonably certain I am not the last you will encounter," he says, carefully modulating his tone. It would be rude to scare this young man now, and counterproductive. "Your reaction is very gratifying, however."
Oh, Norns. Viatorus, you poor lamb, has no one warned you against asking favors of Loki? It's like offering a pickpocket your credit card and PIN. "You may ask," he says. "And I am inclined to agree with your request, but I feel some clarification is needed here. You do understand what kind of god I am, I hope? If your wife worships me, she is a unique individual. Not that that is meant as a criticism, merely that in some universes I have something of a reputation."
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Reality is malleable. Reality is contradictory. They are both gods and mortals, story-creatures beholden to the humanity that invented them, and elemental beings that hold sway over their followers. The multiverse is strange that way. More so than many people are equipped to take in. But Loki, at least, is comfortable with his own cognitive dissonance. And even now he is willing to find out he is wrong, provided the next step is to a step up.
In any event, he's looking for believers. He has no details in his plan, but he does know if he has any hope of vengeance against Thanos or of reaching out to assist his brother against the Mad Titan, he will have to gather resources, knowledge, and power like never before in his existence.
So. He's stumbled across someone who not only knows his name but has some awe for it. It's a bit like hitting the jackpot. The back of his neck prickles, and he takes a moment to clear his throat and fold his hands behind him, much like Frigga used to when she was teaching him about the weather, or the stars.
"I am reasonably certain I am not the last you will encounter," he says, carefully modulating his tone. It would be rude to scare this young man now, and counterproductive. "Your reaction is very gratifying, however."
Oh, Norns. Viatorus, you poor lamb, has no one warned you against asking favors of Loki? It's like offering a pickpocket your credit card and PIN. "You may ask," he says. "And I am inclined to agree with your request, but I feel some clarification is needed here. You do understand what kind of god I am, I hope? If your wife worships me, she is a unique individual. Not that that is meant as a criticism, merely that in some universes I have something of a reputation."