Loki, Prince of Asgard, Odinson (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
coldsong) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
nexus_crossings2021-03-28 04:14 pm
coldsong) wrote in nexus_crossings2021-03-28 04:14 pm
Rope the South wind; Canvas the Stars
There is an ocean in the Nexus--at least one, maybe many--that comes and goes. It has been seen frozen over in the winter, laced with sand and amusements in the summer. Sometimes it's within sight of the Plaza, but more often one has to seek it out in the Wilds, tracking it by the cry of the gulls.
Today, it's close enough to smell the salt-spray.
No one is called, no one is compelled to wander closer, but should the adventurous depart the main Plaza and follow a pebbled path through long grass and winding trees, they will come to a place where the ground rises into a gentle dune, then drops into an expanse of sand and rock sketching out a sort of cove. Indigo water laps the shore there, low waves splashing froth onto the shore. And in the water there is something that could be called a ship, if a ship could be made of ice and bone; if a ship could be strange and hard to look at, if it could stretch up so tall toward the sky it seemed eldritch and unbalanced.
The prow is sharp as a blade, and when the wind sings in the ropes, the noise is high and sweet, like siren song.
Loki is on the shore, and his children are with him. Agnarr and Una are playing in the sand together, the elder stacking rocks and building castles for the younger to knock down. Sigrid and Eindrid, though, are on the Ship itself. A casual observer can see the form of Loki up there with them, guiding them gently as they explore, but he is also below, seated on a heap of driftwood to observe his other two children. Bilocating.
He glances up and nods at whoever wanders close, polite, if protective of the kids.
"Do you believe in birthright?" he asks. "Something beyond the gift of existence itself, to which a person is entitled just by entering the world?"
((ooc: Just to warn, my tags will be VERY slow!))
Today, it's close enough to smell the salt-spray.
No one is called, no one is compelled to wander closer, but should the adventurous depart the main Plaza and follow a pebbled path through long grass and winding trees, they will come to a place where the ground rises into a gentle dune, then drops into an expanse of sand and rock sketching out a sort of cove. Indigo water laps the shore there, low waves splashing froth onto the shore. And in the water there is something that could be called a ship, if a ship could be made of ice and bone; if a ship could be strange and hard to look at, if it could stretch up so tall toward the sky it seemed eldritch and unbalanced.
The prow is sharp as a blade, and when the wind sings in the ropes, the noise is high and sweet, like siren song.
Loki is on the shore, and his children are with him. Agnarr and Una are playing in the sand together, the elder stacking rocks and building castles for the younger to knock down. Sigrid and Eindrid, though, are on the Ship itself. A casual observer can see the form of Loki up there with them, guiding them gently as they explore, but he is also below, seated on a heap of driftwood to observe his other two children. Bilocating.
He glances up and nods at whoever wanders close, polite, if protective of the kids.
"Do you believe in birthright?" he asks. "Something beyond the gift of existence itself, to which a person is entitled just by entering the world?"
((ooc: Just to warn, my tags will be VERY slow!))
no subject
"He should be...disrupted." So says the god of chaos. "But that is not my place unless someone from your world asks for it to be."
And if they did, he would help them fight their emperor, if only for skekGra's sake, but it's probably best if he doesn't get involved in a battle again anytime soon.
He looks over at the Swimmer as her head emerges, and gives her a little bow. He's reminded of a sea otter at a glance, and that is less alarming than many forms a stranger could appear in.
"Una, Agnarr," he calls. "Stay within earshot, please. I will return in a moment."
The plank that leads up to the ship is thin and delicate looking, but neither the weight of a Frost Giant nor a skeksis will make it so much as sway. Balance is required, but they will reach the deck safely. At which point, the two Lokis dissolve into one another, and Eindrid, placed gently on the deck on his own two feet, crows excitedly and comes running to meet his giant avian friend.
no subject
She's not surprised that the Swimmer is keeping her distance. urSan likes keeping herself a bit of a mystery, and skekSa likes her for that. She's still more proactive than the typical Mystic and resisted the retreat to their hidden valley. She, too, helps the Sifa clan, though in a more secretive way.
The Mariner nods grimly. "There are whispers of dissatisfaction, that the Emperor and his minions are doing something unseemly. I've thought of asking Deethra exactly what's going on. I stay out of Court affairs for my own safety and that of the Sifa, but I will not tolerate it if he's harming my clan."
She snorts. She used to respect skekTek the Scientist for his intelligence and ingenuity, and had a feeling that skekSo was cruel to him, but if he's behind this she won't forgive him.
"Ah, if it isn't Sailor Eindrid." skekSa trills deep in her throat, an almost musical sound, somewhere between a songbird and a velociraptor. "It's been a while, lad. Your father brought me here to show you his ship."