WHAT IS A BLOG

so.

I apologise for your distress, fair maiden, I did not mean for my travel to affect your external hard drive and its electronic connections, I wished only to strike terror into the heart of every 'drop bear' so they would refrain from their rampant destruction of Midgard's inhabitants. Mjolnir's force was more than I had anticipated, despite my many years in wielding her. I shall not cause this mischief again, the threatening of an innocent planet's life is more my brother's choice of action, not mine.

Thor wishes to waste no time in calling SHIELD officers to retrieve Loki, but he cannot bear to let his brother go so soon, so he sits and watches for a time, silently appraising the damage done to Loki's body by his life after Thor... after Asgard lost him. He leaves Mjolnir atop Loki's chest, half desperate to keep his brother nearby and half hopeful that the contact with the hammer will somehow fix everything that has gone wrong inside of him.

His body has already begun work to repair itself, with the assistance of his low reserves of magic, but the weight of Mjolnir slows the process a touch. Loki groans despite himself, trying to arch under the cursed hammer in hopes of dislodging it, his spidery fingers curling around the hilt. He can almost feel the power within it biting at him, refusing it even more than it had refused him before, and it only serves to rouse his fury further… but he is tired. He is very tired, and his fight has weakened with the staff no longer in his hands. A glare is cast up at Thor, for he can at least show his anger in this way, can at least show Thor that he has not a willing prey, a willing loser, in this battle.

Laying his palm upon Mjolnir, Thor tells himself that he is using the hammer to check for signs of Loki's returning or waning strength, and that he is not using it as a proxy between his body and his brother's. Mjolnir's hums and subtle movements suggest that Loki is beginning to heal, but slowly, and his power is all but gone. Thor allows himself a breath of relief; Loki will not die from these injuries. Loki's glare cuts through Thor's relief, but not enough to dispel it entirely, and Thor smiles as he looks down upon his brother. They have not been so close in so long, and it has hurt to not feel Loki's cool skin upon his own, whether it be hands held as children or forearms brushed during a mock battle. It is soothing, almost.

Loki is ready to continue, to battle this out and prove his mettle to his brother, to show him that Loki Laufeyson is every bit the warrior as Thor Odinson and his lackeys, to prove that he is something so much more than most others are willing to believe. He will be feared, and his second step will be in defeating the mighty Thor of Midgard. He shifts, ignoring the rain that pours into the room, baring his teeth and narrowing his eyes, every inch a predator itching for prey in his jaws…

Thor is ever-wary of the potential for one of Loki's clones to be subdued on the floor, with the real Loki hidden behind some upturned table waiting to strike, but as he approaches his prostrate brother he worries only for the fact that he may have caused grave injury. Before Loki removed his hand from Gungnir and fell from the edge of Asgard Thor had never worried about hurting him, not truly. The power within Loki was strong even then, and there were always medics so close to their sparring quarters that injury could be healed within moments. Here, on Midgard, and with Loki having surely seen and felt many evils during his fall to come out looking as such, Thor feels he must be cautious about injuring him. It may come to pass that his worries are erroneous, but they are always present.

Loki can imagine the two of them, moving as a whirlwind together, one intending to harm and one intending to put a stop to it all. He can see that Thor is holding back on him, knows by the other’s fruitless cries that Thor simply wants to knock him down and plead with him more. This pushes him, pushes him to go faster, to strike harder, to fight with a greater anger than he already has. He sees the hammer come for his legs and jumps, planting his staff and holding tight to use his momentum and swing himself around, twisting around Thor to land a little further out of his reach. He lifts the staff and pushes the energy within it, grins as a glow brightens and brightens and bursts forth, aiming at Thor as he flings the burst of magic forward.

Thor doesn't expect Loki to dodge his swings, assuming that his brother is too ensnared by battle in a way he had never been before his fall, so his instincts fail him after Loki jumps away. The bolt of magic hits him squarely in the chest and blows him across the hallway, making an impressive series of cracks in the old brick wall as his body collides with it. From his position against the wall he reaches for Mjolnir, frowning as the weapon resists the call to his hand momentarily before flying to him, landing neatly in his palm.

The twist of Thor’s head leaves a feeling of satisfaction within Loki, and he laughs, breathless and wild, as he steps closer, closing further distance between himself and Thor, though he knows he must be cautious. Mjolnir is a mighty weapon, and he has felt the sting of its power before, and he does not seek to feel it again. His staff remains ready, crackling with energy and life, and he is ready as well, lithe form posed to fight. There are no inclinations to run now, even as he feels the fires of cosmic energy begin to burn at him — he knows he must end this battle quickly. And he shall.

The slant of Loki's body displays all his readiness to fight and Thor knows it is useless now to protest, but nonetheless he tries one final time to convince his brother to cease. "Loki, stop this madness!" he cries, his voice just audible above the wind whistling through the window he destroyed earlier. His attempts only earn him a clip across the chin and a stronger attack upon his arm, but his grip on Mjolnir is too powerful for such a hit to jostle the hammer from his grasp, not yet at least.

Evils.

The building creaks further as Loki smiles and Thor sees for the first time a trickle of what he has sparked in his brother. "We are both truly his sons, Loki, no matter our parentage. He does not approve of my actions in Midgard, but I find his ruling misplaced. He knows not the way that destruction falls upon these humans like the falling of Yggdrasil's leaves upon the halls of Asgard. They need protection." Thor is forced to raise Mjolnir against his brother as Loki stalks closer, ensuring that his back is never turned while Loki circles him. "The Allfather does not understand."

For a moment, Loki is sure that his brother cares not and is ready to charge into battle. He should have known that it was more that Thor was simply too single-minded to realize that he need not continue his search when Loki was standing right there. He cocks his head at the sound of his name, and it sounds strange on Thor’s tongue, tinged with history and pain and knowledge, as though he is being called by name through its translation into another tongue. It does not sound like his own — it is the name of the former self, the pitiful creature Loki used to be so long ago, or what felt like so long ago… He curls his upper lip in distaste, looking aside, dismissing the name. That was another, broken, pathetic soul. He has been reshaped and reformed by the stars, and he is something more, now, something more than even Thor, or Odin…

Loki's break in eye contact is the first time Thor has felt truly wounded by his brother's presence in many years. Flicks of Loki's silver tongue are things that can be handled like the scratches from a housecat, with pressure and distraction, but Loki's expression and his disdain for Thor's very visage injures Thor deeply. He wants to step forward, to take hold of Loki's chin and force eye contact again, but Loki looks up too quickly and Thor feels burned by the gaze, unfamiliar emotion radiating from cold eyes he once found so familiar.

They stand on the same floor now, and it is here that Loki catches himself in a moment of hesitation. He cannot name a reason for it, so he dismisses it, and takes the last step forward to come into view of Thor, head tipped low and brows drawn together — had he his helm, he is sure he would look far more imposing. Rather, he is dirty, speckled with dust, hair ruffled, flesh pale… But matters of intimidation matter not with Thor, Thor the Mighty Avenger, he has heard the mortals call him, the silly, puny, pathetic virus that will soon be his to control and guide…

Loki's sudden appearance almost doesn't stop Thor's progress down the corridor. Too caught up in his own mind, Thor takes a good few more steps before pausing, shock chasing battle-readiness from his body as the vision of his brother settles into his mind. Loki looks so world-weary as compared to the last time Thor had seen him; once he had been so regal and now he looks almost feral, like his fall through time and space has brought him close to breaking. Maybe it has broken him.

The clatter grates on Loki’s nerves. He knows his brother is out, that the mighty step of Thor is another sound to this already broken city. He cannot face Thor alone, not with Mjolnir in his brother’s hand and naught but his frayed wits in his own. Not yet, at least. He is bright enough to pick his battles, always has been and forever shall be, and this would be satisfying, to face down Thor and spit venom into his ears, specifically for him alone, but… But Loki pauses to figure out where he is, how far he needs to go. He pauses to breathe and calm himself. He cannot control a situation with his very mind sending him reeling.

At the end of the lengthy corridor Thor finds an unbroken window and naught else. Taking pause, his arm thrumming with Mjolnir's magics, he attempts to listen for footsteps, or any indication of where the other in the building could be, but he hears nothing. He has been too rash, and has missed his chance to track his brother. In a fit of rage he kicks a nearby side table towards the window and shatters it, trapped between anger and concern for the people below as he listens to it crash to the street. He had been taught how to track by the wolf-chasers of Álfheimr, and remembers spending much of his childhood being praised by the Álfar as he successfully cornered his prey, but now he has thrown that knowledge away as he too-eagerly stalked Loki through the building. His prey was lost.

Below, he can hear the shrieks of horrified humans as they watch the building begin to fall. Some are so far beyond the loss of their city that he can hear cries for his brother’s safety rather than cries for the loss of the building, whatever importance it might hold. Loki watches with thrill and delight coursing through his veins as the building begins to fall and tilt, twisting like a falling monster as it prepares to crash to the street below.

Thor collects himself and looks briefly around the room, clutching Mjolnir with a white-knuckled fist. His sudden entrance and Mjolnir's flight have left the already destroyed room in a worse state; pillars cracked and threatening to topple from where the Uru hammer crashed through them, and previously unbroken mirrors and glass vases shattered from the force of his landing within the building. The building itself is tall, tall enough to now tower above the crumbled ruins of Thor's previous guard station, and he takes a moment to check the street below for any signs of further distress before he goes to open the door of the room and instead wrenches it off his hinges.

There is no denying the familiar gnawing at the back of his mind. Loki is more than aware of what it is to sense one’s own, though he shall ever-forth be reluctant — unwilling — to think of this one in particular as his anything again. Loki tightens his grip on his staff, and moves to the window once more, peering up instead of down this time, and — nay, he is not hard to spot. The golden one, the pride and joy of Asgard, standing guard over Midgard instead, looking infuriatingly perfect, as always. Loki’s lip curls in a sneer, and he leans further, unable to stop himself, unable to help it. Besides, he is safe, here. He is in shadow from the very building his brother lurks atop as a gargoyle.

As glass shatters on the ground below Thor turns to see a shadowed window on the building opposite him and wraps his fingers around Mjolnir's hilt, his senses primed for battle. Despite the destruction of the city the buildings rarely fall further than they already have; to his eyes anything that has been so destroyed can no longer become moreso, so Thor stands quiet and ready, his heart rate speeding as he awaits the thrill of attack.