9114/Snits and Servants

Snits and Servants
Date of Scene:	08 September 2019
Location:	Sanctum Santorum - Third Floor
Synopsis:	Bucky encounters a grumpy but 'generous' wounded Loki.
Cast of Characters:	Winter Soldier, Loki
Tinyplot:	Asgard's Requiem

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Winter Soldier has posed:
Now, surely the well travelled Prince has sampled the cuisine of many worlds. Eaten things that would make Midgardians shudder in disgust, or die of sheer pleasure.

But has he had Thai food?

Because that's straight up been a revelation for the Soldier, from the age when (as Steve puts it) 'We boiled everything'. So the sweet dustiness of the Sanctum is pierced by the scent of coconut milk and kaffir lime and spices. There's the rustle of plastic takeout bags, and the sound of steps, as he comes up the grand staircase to where Loki (presumably) lies in state in the bedchamber. He's even got a little breakfast-in-bed tray in his off hand, in case Loki doesn't want to get out of bed.

Loki has posed:
The Sanctum has allowed full access to Bucky. If he suspected that the doors might lock the second he stepped out (or when he returned with food), he is to be surprised, because they remain open to him.

There isn't anything different in the sanctum as a whole, except that it, perhaps, is not as dark as it was: less bleak.

When Bucky ventures up ton the master suite, he will discover Loki is where he left him. Loki is dressed the exact same, and is particularly pale: he'd do an excellent impression of a vampire at the moment, with his sleek dark long hair, angular jaw, and almost iridescent skin tone. He's laying on his side with a tome open in the bed next to him, resting on one elbow. His hands remain in the bandages, a little bloodstained: the same ones.

Bucky's appearance there in the door causes the god's eyes to flick to him, and then Loki's head moves to follow. People rarely surprise Loki, but Bucky's done it, quite possibly, based on the stare at the tray. Bucky fell into the servant role more deeply than Loki had anticipated.

Loki adjusts, moving the tome across to his other side, and scoots to sit up. "What have you brought me?" Loki asks, tone relaxed.

Winter Soldier has posed:
The bags say 'Thai One On', and they yield quite a bounty. Soup and curry and rice and chicken and Malay beef. "Uh, this is Thai food. And I've never been to Thailand, but I think if I went, I'd never leave, 'cause this food is pretty amazing," Buck's matter of fact, as he flips the tray open and sets it down by the bed. "I don't know if you've had it, but I figure you could sample it. If you don't like it, I'll just eat it." Hey, he grew up during the Depression, food shouldn't go to waste.

He nods at the bandages. "I'll change those in a sec. You been able to get up, take care of things? You don't look so good."

Loki has posed:
Loki is leveling a sort of smoulderingly watchful stare at Bucky throughout all of the explanation. "I know what Thai food is. I have also been to Thailand a number of times," Loki says, tone chilly enough to freeze a soldier for a few years. But he seems to ease out of it: either from smelling food, or something else that he decides.

"I'm recovering very well," Loki answers elusively. Like most of Loki's statements, it's anybody's guess if that's a lie or not. He does sit up further; with the amount of pride in that movement, he very well could be one of the seven deadly sins. Or several of them in one. He watches Bucky arrange the things, as if it were beneath him to help -- not due to injury.

Winter Soldier has posed:
The jobs he did, before the war - he's got no particular pride on that front. "Well, do you like it?" he asks, as he looks up from setting out paper plates and disposable cutlery. Loki's moods, short of actual torment, just seem to brush past him, really. A beautiful alien having a snit doesn't compare to riding the lightning when some HYDRA goon had a fit of temper, after all.

But he cocks an eye up at that, looks the Prince over skeptically. "Now, I'm not a doctor," he says, slowly, "And you're not human. But I used to be a medic, and I know the sound of someone tryin'a bullshit the doc when I hear it. You don't gotta impress me, but damn, you're like a cat. You hate bein' seen to stumble."

Loki has posed:
"Where did you find these paper eyesores?" Loki asks with disgust, of the plates. He stretches one wrist, and gestures across them. All of the paper melts into gorgeous china, inlaid with detailed golden vines that spiral into celtic knots. The cutlery, similarly, is traded for shiny silver, etched with similar spiraling details down the handles.

"You believe it matters to me to impress you? Hmm," Loki grants a little amused smile suddenly, with a lift of brow, as if Bucky were behaving like a cute pet. One that was barking all night, but perhaps is finally worth playing with.

"Suit yourself, truth it is: I'm recovering, but it's obnoxiously slow." And that fact is annoying Loki.

Winter Soldier has posed:
Buck, in turn, has done his best to suppress his grin of amusement, but failed. There's a puckish twinkle in his eyes,as the paper plates transform, and he sings, in his rasping voice, "Be our guest, be our guest, put our service to the test...."

Of course he still loves Disney. He remembers when the first movies came out.

Then he says, "No, I don't know about impressing me, but you hate to look like you lost your cool. I mean, you're a magical space prince, I'm impressed. Everything after that is gravy." He shrugs, and once Loki's had his choice, dishes curry chicken onto rice and starts eating. Eating with a kind of deliberate slowness, not wolfing like a soldier trying to choke down rations.

Loki has posed:
Loki watches Bucky with a thoughtful quality that suggests he's not hungry. It's a little /too/ long, in a way, as if watching to see if the food is poisoned. Which may suggest some things about Loki's outlook, and awareness about poisons. Poisoners always suspect the food is poisoned.

Actually, Loki did a small spell to check for that to confirm it isn't laced with something bizarre, so the stare has more to do with weighing Bucky's behavior. And that Loki's just damn tired. He can cover the exhaustion with acting like he doesn't care. Everything's a cover for something else. It's exhausting in a whole other way.

"You've known me for perhaps a few months. I'm sure you're right," Loki retorts blithely. He chose the curry, and there's an intensity of focus about it -- related to not showing pain from using his sliced up hands. It only shows in a hollow pressure in his cheek.

Winter Soldier has posed:
Winter Soldier makes a point of taking a bite from each thing, before he hands it to Loki. Royal taster, yes, yes. Though considering his own resistance to poison, he could've laced the whole banquet with a few bottles of Roundup and not done much beyond get indigestion.

He's still working on his own. He clearly intends to eat the whole thing - he's got the appetite of tundra wolf. Chewing, he swallows and says, "Do you have any friends? Anyone you can trust who isn't me? I mean, do you feel things like that?" Like it's a matter of course that Loki will answer his questions. "I....shouldn't assume that since you look human right now, you feel things like humans do."

Loki has posed:
Loki doesn't eat right away, he stirs his curry, looks displeased to have it at all, and so on. His highness's regal snit is in earnest.

The strange questions seem to amuse Loki more than they offend him. "You're asking if I am able to feel friendship or bonds to other people?" Loki asks, as if just to make sure the question he's being asked IS indeed as crazy as it sounds to him. "Asgardians have emotions, yes. Powerful ones, in fact. So powerful, that there is a battle rage that Asgardians can enter, where they become so filled with bloodlust that they lose control entirely. ... I wonder if you'd ask these things the same way of my brother, were he here instead," Loki asks, curious, as he eats a spoonful of the curry.

Winter Soldier has posed:
"Yeah, because he'd tell me. He seems pretty willing to put up with Midgardians, if it's Thor you mean," Buck says, simply. "And you didn't answer the question. I'm not asking about Asgardians in general. Thor has friends here on earth. He's friends with my buddy, Steve. They've got a lot on common - they're big and blonde and they like charging into battle." A shrug. "I'm asking about you. I've heard of the berserker fury. You don't do that, though."

Loki has posed:
Loki laughs. It's not an open and relaxed laugh, but it IS a laugh, because Bucky's humorous; the laugh wasn't done for the point of mocking him - just has a sense of being not entirely pure. Such as being physically in pain but making yourself laugh at a funny thing even if you don't really feel like laughing.

"Thor /does/ love it here. He loves Midgardians for some reason," Loki agrees, as if Bucky made good ground in an argument, and Loki will concede those facts. The tone he takes when he speaks of Thor is appropriate to referring to an annoying brother.

"Perhaps if I charged into battle, such rage could consume me," Loki jokes, with a flare of his eyes and a lift of one hand, as if he'd weild a hammer. He sobers for a beat, and then laughs again, easing back into the pillows. THAT was an open and relaxed laugh: honest amusement.

Winter Soldier has posed:
"No," Buck says. He's finished his curry, and now he's having soup. "I don't see you ever getting that angry. That's not how you fight, is it. Other Asgardians, maybe, not you."

He looks around the bedchamber, idly. "I don't get it. I don't get why he would be. We don't last long, compared to you guys. Our world is grubby and small and primitive." He's got that matter of factness. "Lemme know when you're done, I'll work on your hands."

Loki has posed:
"I know you're irritated I'm dodging your questions," Loki answers, in his sly way, eating his curry still. Loki's being very slow about it. "Which is funny to me. But really, I'm insulted that you chose to imply that not only do I not have friendships, but that I'm incapable of it. I am loyal to my people, and my people are loyal to /me/. I am not restoring Asgard as a personal vacation home for my exclusive use."

"I find Midgardians so often insulting; perhaps Thor is just more generous about it than I am." Loki tosses the silver spoon into the bowl and pushes the food away, rotating his hands to palm up, and staring coldly at Bucky. It's a clear indication that it's time to unwrap the injured palms.

Winter Soldier has posed:
"That's not the same as friendship," Buck says, softly. "You may be good to them, and they to you....but are you close to any of them?" He turns a hand, shrugs.

Then tidies the food away for now. Another of the sack proves to have fresh first aid supplies....and metal and flesh hands are surprisingly gentle, as he undoes the bandaging. Lapsed back into that thoughtful silence, blue eyes intent.

Loki has posed:
Loki smiles a little bit, his insult seeming to be just on the surface, if he was actually insulted. "Many of those died in the fall of Asgard. Is this really what you want to push me on?" Loki asks, voice lowering, to a confidential tone.

Loki waits, observant of the bandage removal. There's a lot of blood and there's places where it sticks to Loki's long piano fingers. Once one is unwrapped Loki draws it back to inspect visually, bending and curling the fingers. The long cuts remain, but there's no active bleeding. Now that it's not bloody, it's easier to tell where the cuts are: as if major veins pulsed and burst: the patterns follow the natural flow in his hands and wrists, presumably even up the forearms under his sleeves.

Winter Soldier has posed:
Winter Soldier sucks air in past his teeth, when the extent of the damage comes clear. "Nah," he says, softly. "Didn't mean nothin' by it. C'mon, let me getcha."

He's not squeamish in the least, past that initial reaction. Almost tender. Pain is pain, and he knows it well. HYDRA may have made him a brutal killing machine, but even it hasn't inculcated a taste for cruelty.

Loki has posed:
"I've yet to revive the dead," Loki says, conversationally, as if this were entirely normal. "I wonder often if Odin will be appreciative or not about it," he says, as if just making idle chitchat while Bucky unwraps the other hand.

"I want to leave them unwrapped for a time. It's harder to cast with that nonsense on me," Loki states of the bandages, using his unwrapped hand to reach over to one of the drinks Bucky had brought. It may be slightly eerie to see Loki's apparent pain tolerance level.

Winter Soldier has posed:
Another face at that. "Jesus, no, stop," Buck says, trying to seize his hand, gently. "Give it a rest! C'mon, you're healing fast, but don't make it worse. Do human drugs work on you? Do you want Tylenol or something?"

Loki has posed:
Loki pulls his hand away and gives a sharp look. "I've used a spell to numb it, and I know my limits. /Please/." Loki's eyes narrow, and then a little smile comes. Mischief god on the prowl. There's almost no warning.

"I suspect," Loki says suddenly, "That you still don't have a real scope of how powerful I actually am." Loki moves from where he was reclining, drawing one of his injured hands in towards Bucky's chest, up near the heart area, and physically getting into Bucky's personal space. It's a slippery move, sliding into that position, the king of all snakes.

"If I /choose/, I can look right into your heart, and see what you want. Or need. Or what you've lost," Loki says, tone quiet, but still easy to understand. "I can grant it. Or not. If I cared enough to bother with looking in the first place. I am a /god/."

There's a little smile now, a perk to Loki's lips on the sides. "Recreating a world, rearranging the events that killed a planet, takes a toll, even on a god. And there's a price to magic that /nobody/ avoids. 'Human drugs'? Don't be a fool."

Loki's moved close, and attempts to pat two fingers on Bucky's cheek, jade eyes hypnotic. "You're here because you're entertaining me. But don't push it with your fake sympathy, I'm aware you're hunting a way to defeat me. Your closest friend is Captain America, who wishes suffering upon me, despite my willingness to be so kind to you."

Winter Soldier has posed:
Buck freezes. Loki's touching him, and it's scaring him. The dog isn't here, for once, to comfort him, to jar him out of it. But he doesn't fall into panicked attack, or try to bolt. He's caught, right on the edge.

There's only that mute, animal desperation in his face, as he looks at Loki. He permits the touch, even the pat of his cheek. "You're wrong," he says. "Steve doesn't wish suffering on anyone. Not even you."

Loki has posed:
Maybe Loki can smell fear. Or just read body language like he's centuries old and has been manipulating people for all of it.

That means the touch remains. The scent of injured hand is coppery and close. Loki was honest about Bucky entertaining him. Loki likes his playthings, even if he doesn't need to: like a cat with a mousie. Bash it on the head, watch how it runs. Dead mousie isn't fun, though.

"We're both experienced with suffering, I think," Loki says serenely. "Perhaps that wasn't the right word for it. /Failure/, then. He wishes me to fail at my 'plans'." His green eyes gleam. "Let's hope he doesn't desire a failure in my work to continue to repair you. I think you know what's best for you."

"And it doesn't involve my defeat."

"I will even unburden you of your favor owed, because I think you /do/ see it." Loki drops his hand to rest it instead at the man's human forearm, deliberately adjusting to mimic a pressure of warm presence that he's seen Lili do. Manipulative? Always.

Winter Soldier has posed:
Alas, Loki lacks furry sincerity and liquid brown eyes. And Bucky closes his. Not pinching them closed like a child warned not to peek at a surprise, but a slow veiling of lids.

He's utterly still, pale, lips thinned out, but his pulse is jumping at his throat, and there's sweat at his temples. He doesn't ask questions or argue. No attempt to lead Loki further along on any path of answers.

Loki has posed:
It appears Loki was extremely successful in teaching Bucky what happens when Loki is pitied. Loki remains where he is, at first, patient, the compassionate warmth still on Bucky's forearm, before Loki's long fingers slide away, and he silently moves back to sit where he had been. It isn't a jerking away of comfort, just moving: should Bucky chase it, it didn't go far.

There's then some soft sounds of Loki resuming eating, leaving Bucky to take his own time to recover, in the warm, dim room of the opulent prince.

Winter Soldier has posed:
He takes a while, to open his eyes. Then he's quietly packing up the food. Moving like he's hoped Loki's forgotten he's here, that he can pretend to be the kind of disembodied servitor the Beast had in his castle. Not looking at the Sorcerer directly.

Loki has posed:
Loki reclines back, observing the process of that, and not inserting any new daggers.

Well. Not at first.

"I'm ready for the bandages to be put back on," Loki says serenely. "My spell is wearing off." The last comes with a little vocal tightness. He'll deal with the pain now, it seems. There's limits to how much magic is prudent, with how drained he is.

Winter Soldier has posed:
Expressionless, as he comes back to rebandage the wounds. Still gentle, but there's that almost dissociative quality to it. Like he's really miles away, somehow, from what's happening. Still pale.

And still not looking up at Loki directly.

Loki has posed:
"You know," Loki says, tone conversational. "of all the places you could possibly be, it seems to me my company is the best, for you," Loki says, thoughtful. "As I can immediately drive any mental demons away, like that," Loki says. And snaps his fingers.

He regrets it immediately, and loses his cool, lashing the bandage aside with his other hand and gripping the fingers. Blood oozes. Loki hisses out a short, quick breath. Ow.

Winter Soldier has posed:
Winter Soldier finally gives him a patient, stony look. Then picks up the bandages again. "Stop moving them," he says, flatly. "Let me work." No opinions on Loki's company. His jaw is set, tense, though.

Loki has posed:
Loki's shift due to pain is maybe the most pure of the emotions he's exhibited, because his focus moved to himself, instead of on playing with Bucky's. He's stopped fronting for a little while. Perhaps it is good timing, since Bucky is too withdrawn to actually see.

Loki has to take a minute to slowly unpeel his hand from the other, and submit to the wraps. It WAS his idea to get bandaged again, after all.

Winter Soldier has posed:
HE's good at this. What would he have made, if he'd survived the war, and not had all his choices taken from him? Who knows?

Then, curtly, "Do you want icebags for your hands." Because clearly the pretense at feeling no pain is....well, it's not convincing.

Loki has posed:
"Kht, /no/," Loki scoffs immediately, resentful and testy.

There's a pause. "Yes." Mercurial god changed his mind, what of it. He uses an elbow to push himself back some on his explosion of cushions. He has many cushions: that's how you can tell how powerful someone is. The number of piles of cushions on a bed.

Winter Soldier has posed:
Buck's calmed down a little. At least, he's not vibrating with suppressed fear. Loki's hopefully too tired and distracted and pained to keep riding him, right?

He takes away the food, returns after a little with an old-fashioned rubber ice bag, sloshing with cubes. "Here. It'll numb things. Too warm out for me to get snow for you to pack 'em in."

Loki has posed:
"I have an orb of Winter," Loki observes in a dry tone, as if that were potentially a very obvious way to obtain snow. He looks at the ice-bag dubiously, as if it wasn't quite up to standard for His Highness, but doesn't actually tell Bucky to get bent.

Winter Soldier has posed:
"Yeah, but you don't got it in your pocket, and if magic is making you ache right now, then maybe that's not such a good idea. Just hold the bag, Your Highness." It sounds like an order.

Loki has posed:
"You know not what I've got in my pocket dimensions," Loki replies in his snotty way, but the smirk isn't dangerous. He takes the bag anyhow, and settles with it, giving Bucky a reprieve from his hypnotic, sharp gaze for a time as he rests with his eyes shut. Loki relaxed in a slumber-like posture drops his wattage significantly: the difference between a hunting panther and a sleeping one.

Winter Soldier has posed:
Winter Soldier gives him a look. "You want me to start reaching into your pockets for you, you're gonna need to get me drunk," he says, half under his breath. "I'm gonna go." Apparently he's taken all of the PRince he can deal with, for the moment.

Loki has posed:
"Ah, back to jokes? You got so /distant/ there," Loki observes. "No, it's in the Solarium, in the base of the structure that supports my channeling relics," Loki says, eyes still closed. He missed the look Bucky sent him, due to that, but his smile suggests he still felt the weight of it.

"Would you /very much/ like to take them to SHIELD?" Loki wonders.

Winter Soldier has posed:
That's the thing with this guy. Even his gifts are so likely to be barbed....and even when they're not, there's enough paranoia to tie you up in knots first. "Give the Orbs back to SHIELD?" he asks, flatly.

Then there's a beat and he opens his mouth, as if to ask another question, then thinks the better of it.

Loki has posed:
Loki watches him for a few long moments, but then shrugs, as if the time of the offer had passed. "It's better for /mages/ to protect the orbs, as they have for centuries. I was about to say they were easily taken from SHIELD, but as it's me that did it -perhaps it's not so easy for others," Loki comments.

"If you ask nicely later, I'll consider it," says the generous god, as if the generosity itself was pleasing to him.

It's probably a good time to ask for things, should Bucky want something else. Or to leave without a dagger in the spine.

Winter Soldier has posed:
He mostly manages to keep the skepticism from his face. Just looking at the Trickster, in mute thoughtfulness. "So, we're down to no favors owed, huh?" he wonders, softly. "And I'll keep that in mind. I'll let them know. Maybe it's better they stay with you. That was you, huh? You got me good, I'll give you that."

Loki has posed:
"No favors owed, then," Loki agrees. "If that's what you want. I don't think I asked of you anything you didn't like doing," Loki reminds. "Captain Rogers still owes me, of course." There's still that, naturally.

"I 'get everyone good', don't feel bad," Loki teases. Then he moves his hands and some pain streaks through his features, clearly starting to hit his mood again. It's hard to stay pleasant when in pain.

Winter Soldier has posed:
It's like the old cartoons - the little devil on one shoulder, the angel on the other, squabbling. "No, you were smart enough to have me do what I'd be willing to do anyhow." His appetite for the destruction of HYDRA being well nigh infinite.

An upnod at that. "Listen, there anything more I can do for you now? I'm gonna head out, otherwise. Or.....how about I take Steve's last favor? He owes none, I owe you one more." Bargaining with the Trickster - this boy took way too many hits to the helmet back when, it's clear.

Loki has posed:
Loki lifts one shoulder a small amount, with a 'humble' smile, to being complimented on being smart. "Maybe. It could have been entertaining to ask for things you didn't want to do," Loki says. He chose otherwise, obviously.

"No, I'm going to rest. The sanctum will remain open to you for now. Continue to do so well by me, and I'll /consider/ your request, I reward loyalty," Loki says, with a regal tone. Considering he dropped the other favor, it's not impossible: it could happen, maybe. Right? Right...