Mischief Managed

He stared at her briefly, recalling a time when he would have killed her on the spot out of sheer irritation, but just as quickly he brushed the thought. Maybe he should have opted for his usual black suit when walking about outside his evil lair. People were far more likely to ignore him if he looked ordinary. As it were though, he had planned on getting into a bit of mischief following his walk. He was really itching to see what those sentinels could do and he wasn’t at all worried about them defeating him either. He had the tesseract among other useful things. If he had to visit another timeline for a while, he certainly would do so to evade having his arms ripped off. But it would seem that bit of his planned evening would have to wait. Getting others involved in his antics wasn’t his thing these days. So after reminding himself that he was trying to be ‘good’ these days, he offered a polite smile, swishing his cape in dramatic fashion just for show.

[ OUTGOING → UNKNOWN ] how careless of me i could have sworn i typed the right number

[ OUTGOING → UNKNOWN ]  when the little one sleeps i sleep too otherwise i work nonstop

[ OUTGOING → UNKNOWN ]  sorry to bother you hahaha

Loki turned, coffee cup in hand as he stared at the figure curiously. The voice seemed familiar to him, but honestly, he could not put a name to the voice. Furthermore, he didn’t know very many people outside of the Avengers so seeing someone from another vigilante group ( he assumed ) speaking to him as if they were familiar was a shock to the god’s system. Had they truly met before and if so, was it merely in passing? He wasn’t certain he liked this given the state of the New York these days so he straightened his posture, mind already planning a dramatic escape if need be. However, for the time being, he would play along. No effort had been made to apprehend him yet so maybe he needn’t worry too much... right?

[text] Not sure if I took a nap or went to another dimension / sam || @blastcd

Slipping into an alley way, he leaned back against the cool brick watching as another patrol moved by. He was projecting his image from several blocks away, just slightly outside of their range according to his calculations. So far so good except he was being watched by another. He killed the projection of himself, pretending not to notice the person slipping up behind him. A dagger appeared out of midair and then he was on them, whipping around and slamming them into the tree. Pressing his form against them with the dagger to their throat, he arched a brow curiously. It wasn’t a known enforcer, but he still did not appreciate their sneaky ways as it pertained to him.

All the better that Loki wasn’t inclined to conversation about his family, because Erik wasn’t particularly inclined to sharing more than he already had.  It was none of the man’s concern, and the last thing he needed was anyone taking more of an interest in his children than some already had.  He could appreciate the man’s forthrightness, though, in his admittance that he only asked about things he’d find useful–it was a good reminder that he needed to be particularly mindful with this one about what he shared.  

The man did claim to be the god of chaos, after all, and Erik definitely did not need any more of that in his life than he already had, thank you very much.

He did not appreciate the way that the threat he posed was so easily waved off–he’d more than held his own against several of the Avengers, now, and most of the X-Men at some point or another, not to mention the others who’d gotten in his way.  But this one was infamously slippery, and whatever magic he had may well be powerful enough to overwhelm Erik’s.  He didn’t know.  He didn’t particularly want to test it–the man hadn’t bothered him or his people, as far as he knew, and seemed far more likely to antagonize humans than himself.  So he set aside the flare of indignation, and instead mulled over the fact that Loki could evidently feel the Phoenix force, somehow.  Interesting.  The bird concurred, and seemed to agree that sharing what had happened with the man was unlikely to do too much damage.  After all, him knowing how it happened wouldn’t change anything now. 

“It was something of an accident, to tell you the truth,” he said, after drawing another breath of smoke into his lungs.  “You saw, I gather, news of the Raft a few months back.  They took more successful precautions against my powers than I’d anticipated, even without a collar, and I may have bitten off a bit more than I could chew.  Jean is more than just a telekinetic, and shared her… power reserve, shall we say, with me in order to ensure we could both make it out along with some of the other mutants we freed.  It hasn’t gone back to her. since then.”  

Magneto remained silent for a while which left Loki wondering if the silence was his way of answering. He would not have blamed the mutant at all given Loki's track record and yet words would spill forth moments later with an explanation Loki did now expect.

An accident? Really?

Under normal circumstances, he might have found Magneto's explanation to be questionable at best. He doubted the mutant obtained much of anything these days 'by accident'. However, the incident involving Jean Grey and the Raft made headlines all over the place. Magneto of course, was also at the center of things being that he apparently helped get her out. It was a media frenzy that put the spotlight on mutants even more. Knowing what he knew about Jean, he supposed it was possible for them to share power with the end result being what it is.

“ I see. ” He paused, containing the devious smirk he nearly let slip. This was a rather interesting development indeed and it was taking everything in him not to slip back into his old ways. Stoopid archer with his hypnotic puppy eyes. Barton would never let him live it down if he reduced himself to stirring the pot so to speak------

Well.

Maybe a bit of stirring couldn’t hurt.

“ Ah, well it would seem your bird knows a better host when it sees it. Power is... a c u r i o u s thing. ” And he would know being that he was harboring a rather nifty energy module with a mind of its own. “ Not to say that your Jean Grey is an incapable mutant. From what I hear, she’s even more powerful than Charles Xavier himself. ”

This time he does smirk --- just a little. He had a hunch about this too and well, since he was here conjuring polite conversation, he might as well get the most out of it, yes? He waits a spell, observing Magneto before he continues his train of thought, choosing his words as carefully as any serpent would.

“ The Raft was the first time I’ve ever heard the name Jean Grey on the news yet I hear your name quite often --- almost everyday in fact. Power grows bored when it is idle for too long. It desires a purpose and thrives on chaos. ”  There’s a slight pause with a well timed lick of his lips. He reaches for his drink that finally arrives, bringing the glass to his lips as he speaks. 

“I don’t,” Clint said, without hesitating. “Hate you,” he clarified, swallowing the bite of fish in his mouth. His eyes flicked up to meet Loki’s. “More than anyone else in the world, anyway. There’s way worse shit than you out there.” Smirking back at Loki. They were both hiding, both wearing masks. But for a second, Clint thought that Loki was hiding a flicker of concern for him. And if Loki were to wonder about his smirk – would he wonder if Clint was hiding a flicker of companionship for the god? 

Shitty dads seemed to be a universal constant. Clint couldn’t remember the last time he heard about a good one. What was it about dads, he wondered? Was he always doomed, right from the start? Was he always going to disappoint his family, and lose them because of it? 

An uneasy silence settled over them for a long moment. It made his skin crawl, but he tried to distract himself with the food. Clint was a talker, always had been. But what so few people realized was how little he actually said – especially about himself. He liked people, on the whole. He liked being around them, making them laugh. But he was private. More private than most people would realize. There was a reason he cracked jokes instead of spilling secrets, and those reasons had made him a very good agent to have in the field. But they had also left him lonely, and he knew it. On his darkest days, he knew all too well how alone he really was. 

That’s when the silence felt the loudest. 

But the quiet right now was broken when Loki spoke again. His voice was casual, so casual they could’ve been talking about the futzing weather, nothing more important than the chance of showers later. 

Was Loki really apologizing? Or at least getting close to it? There was a regret threading through his words, and not just a shame at having been bested. It went so much deeper than that. It sounded so human, Clint had to remind himself who he was eating dinner with. An Asgardian, hundreds of years old, from another planet, another universe. 

And still, Loki knew how to see into the core of him. To give voice to his fears, which wasn’t surprising, but to have the god dispel them? To offer comfort? The Avengers weren’t exactly a team here, given the Accords, but Loki wasn’t wrong. Even in a brand new universe, there were people who cared about him. He had friends.

But maybe the most surprising part was that Loki didn’t just tell Clint he wasn’t alone – he made him feel like it. Because it was Valentine’s day, and he had lost his family, his best friend, everything that mattered, but he was still sharing a meal. With a soul just as lost as his own. 

And Clint, the talker, had nothing to say in reply. For another long moment, the quiet settled over them. This time it didn’t make his skin crawl. This time it felt… almost peaceful. Finally Clint took a sip of his drink and looked over at the god when he set down the glass. He couldn’t quite find Loki’s eyes, but he hadn’t really expected to. 

“You know the weird part about this?” he asked. “This whole, other universe thing? It’s a lot like where I came from. Same New York. Same buildings, same streets. The same people, mostly. But it’s different too, in these little tiny ways,” he mused, tapping a finger against the table. “It makes me wonder, ya know? About what else could be different. How things could… change.” 

He hadn’t come here expecting to say that, let alone believe it. None of this was planned. But he hadn’t planned on marrying Laura either. Or having those kids. Joining SHIELD or the Avengers, he hadn’t expected those things to happen, to meet those people. He had gotten lucky, luckier than he ever imagined and definitely more than he deserved. But it wasn’t all luck. He saw things no one else did, little details, tactical advantages invisible to others. And opportunities. Opportunities that to everyone else, seemed like more than long shots – they seemed impossible. 

Taking the impossible shots, that’s how he got here. Finding people who believed in him, that’s how he stayed there. 

Loki was right. Sometimes the difference was just having someone give a futz about you. “I don’t know how I got here. Why this happened to me, or if there’s even a reason at all. But maybe, for now, let’s pretend there is,” he offered, just as casually as Loki had been. “Maybe I’m here so you have just one other person in the galaxy. At least, the only one who will bring you flowers,” he quipped. 

He did know that smirk. And he didn’t need to prove it, because Loki knew it too. The bravado in the god’s voice had finally wavered, and come oh-so-close to breaking. The trickster couldn’t lie to him, not about this. 

Clint picked up his plate and held it up for Loki to put the desert on. “I don’t owe you anything,” he agreed. “I’m offering anyway. The evil lair schtick is very cool and all, but ya know…” He shrugged, and took a bite of cheesecake. “Might be interesting. To see if I was wrong about you.” 

Everyone had something. 

Something terrible.

Something wonderful. 

Something worth a second chance.

A second chance to have someone. 

To be someone.

Well. That was... unexpected. His words drew a brief glance from the god and one that highlighted shock all too well. Often proud of his ability to keep his reactions in check, this time the cloak slipped showing a very real reaction as opposed to something more calculated and planned. The smirk doesn't go unnoticed but he's almost too shocked to retort back with one of his usual quips. Instead, he focuses on his wine, almost uncertain where to steer the conversation next. He wasn't used to this: wasn't used to having a dinner in which attention was on him. Asgard was known for it's exotic feasts on behalf of the Allfather and his perfect blonde champion, but Loki was usually silent during dinner. After all, the only person who was ever interested in his magic tricks was his mother. The others cared only for Thor's conquests as a warrior.

Hard to compete with that.

His thoughts left him open and unbeknownst to him his guard had dropped entirely. He had zoned out, lost in one of the memories that led to him breaking away from the family. He was back home, standing at the foot of a long, golden  staircase while Odin lorded over him from the top. It was always like this. Always with the submissive gestures out of respect for a father who never counted him. He could barely look Odin in the eye because he couldn't stand to see the look in his eyes. Sometimes it was pure disgust while other times it was disappointment. He was unaware that both he and Clint had gone silent until something in him clicked.

He was having dinner. He was with Barton. Everything he was musing over was the past.

He had to force himself back to reality; back to a moment that seemed more surreal than what he was musing over just now. He was having a cordial dinner with a man he forced to do his bidding for weeks. He... Barton... a man who had lost everything protecting the world from people like Thanos. Loki wasn't certain he was ever reaching for Thanos levels of power, but... it was hard to know if he would have taken it that far without the Avengers slapping him around for kicks. Maybe they saved him from becoming what he hated about Odin. Maybe... It was certainly a perspective he never once pondered until now.

Clint's voice had Loki reaching for his utensils again. He cut into his cheesecake, cutting green eyes towards him briefly. “And what is so weird about all of this?”

He listened quietly, taking in all of what he was saying. To be honest, Loki never paid much attention to how things were different or the same. When he was hellbent on destroying New York, he never really took the time to explore his surroundings. He was... It was as if he was razor focused on the invasion and nothing else. He couldn't tell you what was the same or what was different other than the fact that he knew what could come things if things went bad here. Yet to Clint's point, while Loki didn't notice any changes the naked eye could see, Clint was right about one thing: the future had great potential to turn out differently than the last. It all depended on the new choices made and bonds formed. He had none as of yet, but --- and he'd never admit this aloud --- he had no intention of making a mess of things either. So maybe... just maybe there was tiny sliver of hope for change on his end after all.

“You have entirely too much time on your hands if you've been able to ponder all of this.” Words were said in an amusing tone but one need only observe his expression to know he was struggling with something. In any event, he stuffed his mouth with dessert before his mouth decided to vomit sentiments all over the place.

Not now. Not ever. He would not appear the sentimental fool over one dinner.

That was the plan until Barton spoke again.

Why? Why did he have to be so damn reasonable? Why could he not just LOATHE him like everyone else? Nat had no problem telling him how she really felt while Stark was the worst offender of them all. If they could manage to muster up a level of loathing that kept the god on his toes then surely Clint could do so as well right?

                        “Clint...”

Clint. Not Barton. Another slip of the tongue. Cheesecake half eaten, he pushes the plate aside. He was trying so hard to be himself, but this... This was almost too much for one dinner.

“Your optimism... it's... touching, but I'm afraid I find your assessment hard to believe. If anything, you are here because you have friends who need you more than you know and... perhaps the chance at a family once more. It can never replace what you lost but... who knows why the universe is how it is? I certainly do not and I've ventured through many in my lifetime.”

With Clint now done with his meal, Loki cut and placed a slice of cheesecake onto his plate, the dessert being another silent reminder of the clock ticking. Normally he was not this self aware of the time, but considering how well the evening was going, he couldn't help himself. In minutes, Barton would be walking out the door leaving him alone in his lair all over again. The idea should not have bothered him as much as it did but... a lot of things shouldn't have. This evening had been one giant mind fuck all around.

Lips curve, a smirk playing at his lips. This of course, was merely another attempt at playing his role --- the one everyone who called themselves an Avenger was accustomed to seeing. However, it was ever more difficult to keep face, for when faced with words that sounded rather genuine coming from him, it made being the villain difficult to channel.

“Perhaps I will mull over your offer. Give me a few weeks and should I feel the need for a change of scenery, you will be the first to know.”