2014.03.17 - Our Time is Now

Word is to the Realms that grow from the branches of Yggdrasil to any and all who has ears to hear (as it were). Be it known that Loki Odinson, Prince of Asgard has been elevated to the title of Crown Prince, Heir to the Throne of Asgard, Defender of the Nine Realms.
Since the declaration, there has been a steady stream of 'well wishers' as well as concerned whispers in the corners, supposedly in the shadows. Loki is no fool, however, and he knows that with one always comes the other. For some, more one than the other and there is no real telling how the balance tips at any given time.
Sitting 'in state', the Prince is dressed in greens and golds, bits of his armour gleaming. There are guards scattered throughout the room, standing as silent sentries. With each visit of representatives of the Realms, they're actually looking a little more relieved, even if they're silently unhappy about their current 'predicament'. (No wars have started yet!)
As time passes, however, Loki begins to give that tell-tale shift in his seat; there's a hint of boredom, certainly, but now... anticipation. His eyes shift towards a certain... lady of mystery that stands mostly obscured, and a ghost of a smile creeps across his face.
Outside of the palace- far outside- there's a bit of a disturbance. A crack in reality appears, glaring and painful to look at. It's at one of the points where the various magical defenses of the city are channeled to send teleporters and visitors to Asgard. The teleportation is, by Asgardian standards, crude- it's a mere rip in reality, a wormhole that smashes its way into existence and sunders a roaring, gaping void open. From that void steps a man clad in purple and scarlet, wearing a helmet that cloaks his face in shadow, his eyes flaring with blue energy that literally makes them crackle with electricity. Like Thor, crackles of lightning echo around his person as he strides confidently through the portal, his cloak flaring dramatically behind him, like the wings of a bat. Tall and confident, he approaches the guards, armed with halberds and magic and Asgardian power, and holds a hand up in a universal gesture of greeting.
"Imperator Magneto, of Genosha, come to say hail to the Prince of Asgard," Magneto declares in tones that even Asgardians would find compelling.
So he is escorted, under guard, to the throne room, to Loki's presence, and there Magneto removes his helmet, revealing features probably familiar to the Prince of Asgard. A smile curls the edges of his moouth, and the Imperator offers Loki a short but formal bow- a monarch addressing a monarch in his home. It's a subtle thing, but Magneto's character is often the stuff of subtle, and such a gesture is likely not lost on Loki.
"Prince Loki, the nation of Genosha bids you hail and praise for your elevation to Prince Regent," Magneto declares, his voice carrying effortlessly around the throne room. "May the All-Father rest well knowing the throne is guided well by your hand."
He reaches into his cloak, then produces from a pouch a gemstone, an emerald of unsurpassed beauty and truly flawless consistency and cut. "I bring you a piece of Genosha itself, as a gift in recognition of your new rulership. Hail, Loki, Prince of Asgard," Magneto intones, handing the emerald to a porter to bear up to the Prince Regent.
Not far away sits a woman of few words and full attention, settling into the new groove of Asgard, as it were. Seemingly with the most gentle of nudges, all of the pieces have been settling into place. It's uncharacteristically good fortune for some, though it could just as easily be argued that those with something to gain had been playing the game all along.
Now, here, with the Imperator making a grand entrance, a thin smirk silently creeps across that one woman's face. Not a sound is made as she stands and begins to walk behind Magneto, using the moment while the other mutant is distracted in his greeting.
When that figure introduces herself, she does so as Erik Lehnsherr. Before the loss of his physical age. Before the fall of Genosha. His voice is just as booming, just as commanding, as it had always been.
"And so you would demean the ruler of Asgard with a token that would have taken mere seconds to crystallize? A lord of untold power and wealth, and you attempt to appease him with a manufactured trinket? How the mighty have fallen. You have lost sight of yourself, Erik. In turning back your clock, you have also sacrificed your wisdom."
Oh, and he's also walked into the court of two very powerful shapeshifters.
Loki is in tune with magic, the magic of Asgard, the lines of power that flow, that are his to command and control. This is a world that sees magery as a woman's world, those too weak to wield a sword, a hammer, a spear, but the Prince is a natural in such a world. As such, he -feels- the flux of power, the opening of a gate between worlds; it's not painful, no. Simply present.
Magneto's entrance to the Throne Room is met with a slight straightening in his seat, and his chin rises. Blue eyes lock onto the other man, and as he approaches, Loki waits for the greeting before inclining his head in acknowledgment and greeting.
"Welcome to Asgard, Imperator Magneto. The Nation of Genosha is thanked, and that she is considered--"
The porter comes down the steps even as a more mature Magneto makes his appearance. The moment Mystique strides forward, the guards begin to move as if to block her approach, or more to the point, to be sure the Crown Prince is unthreatened by this new turn of events. Loki, however, shakes his head ever so slightly, unseen by most unless they're looking for it, and the guards pause in their duties.
Holding his hand out for the pouch, Loki looks at the stone, a smile growing even as Mystique chastizes the Imperator.
"If this is done by his hand, it surpasses that which would be done on most Realms. There are worlds unseen by mortal eye that would hold such an ability of one as an act of a god. Not simply illusion, but to transmute."
Rising from his seat, Loki takes a couple of steps down such that he's closer to the pair on the audience floor. "So, in that light, I accept the gift and the hope of friendship between Asgard and the Nation of Genosha."
There should be no confusing that light in the keen blue eyes of the Prince. He equates Genosha with Magneto, and well he should. And there should be no question that 'mutants' fascinate him. The evolution of humanity to a level that had escaped his notice, and he's still trying to catch up. Even the beauty of that blue shapechanger that effortlessly changes without the use of magic?
Intriguing.
Now, Loki looks to Mystique and he makes a soft 'tsk' sound, though he looks still so genuinely pleased with all the goings on. He -likes- these people. "You should know that one who can create such beauty from nothing is as valuable as pulling such things from the ground." It's the promise of wealth in his book. He has time to play such waiting games; it's always the longer term plans that pan out.
Another step is taken before he's on the Floor itself, and he gestures towards the large doors in the back. "Walk with me. Both of you. Let me show you Asgard, or at least some of it."
Magneto doesn't turn. Or blink. Or even make any acknowledgement that someone has taken his face and is yelling at him in his own voice. There's a minute crackle behind him and a small static shock arcs from between his shoulderblades and hits Mystique/Magneto in the chest, with enough force to really sting without knocking her on her ass. It might have just been a bit of leftover static electricity from his teleportation. Who knows?
"Oh. Mystique. I did not notice you there," Magneto says, not taking his eyes off Loki.
He touches his chest and bows to the Prince, smiling again at the invitation, and moves to fall into step next to the Regent, walking with his hands clasped at the small of his back, his helmet gone... somewhere. "I trust you are settling in well?" Magneto asks solicitously, speaking with a formal yet casually intimate tone of voice. Again. Subtle. Peers addressing peers. "If there is anyone in the Nine Realms who can empathize with the tribulations of rulership, it is I," Magneto says with a wry chuckle, in that same low tone that doesn't carry past the three of them. "Some days it seems more wrangling cats than ruling a nation. And Genosha is not a tenth the size of your beautiful city," Magneto says, gesturing at the remarkable view of the city panning below them as the trio walk out onto the rear balustrade of the palace itself.
And so he chooses to strike at her physically in response? Mystique's earlier point remains. Where once it would have been countered with words, now it is countered with action. Let him play with static if that is what he desires, she won't give him the benefit of so much as a flinch. It's a simple enough matter to ground herself.
"You wouldn't," she cooly replies to having been overlooked. When she doesn't wish to be seen, she isn't going to be seen.
It's curious sometimes how Mystique is more prepared to go to war than Loki is. He even manages to put a positive spin onto the situation after she's made a show of grinding the Imperator's face into the dirt, though that, too, is questionable as to which is better or worse. A defiled image, or proving one's self useful to the Asgardian lord. At this rate Magneto will become even less of himself, and more of what Loki would wish him to be.
Manipulation takes a great many forms.
Here Mystique shifts into her True Blue form, staring at the other mutant as though silently asking 'Accomplish anything with Genosha lately?'
She's certainly been keeping busy playing with these other-realmers. For the moment, she will join the two. Magneto has much explaining left to do.
A nod is given in response to the gesture of respect, and his arm gestures grandly towards the doors, and the corridors beyond. Loki's expression flickers at the sound of static (it's a sound he's quite familiar with, thankyouverymuch- having been the recipient of it MANY times in his youth) //'Children!'// can -almost- be seen hidden within. Instead, the younger brother exhales softly and begins the tour of the palace, departing the Throne Room.
"I was raised for this," Loki's tones are conversational, light, but unlike his brother, there is always the feeling of formality in his words and actions. Always choosing each word carefully, each gesture thought about in advance. "Years of tutors, years of sitting in, years of visits to the Realms. Which is why, perhaps, your kind intrigues me so. It's escaped the all-seeing eye of the All-Father. Or, perhaps he's not realized it's import."
The balconies are full, wide, each showing a picture of serene beauty beyond of a city that has stood for thousands upon thousands of years and still lives, is still vibrant.
"I don't envy your position, Imperator. However, like you, I wouldn't shy from it either. Embracing the possibilities, working towards an end- it's... the way it should be. And will always ultimately be."
Loki turns his attention towards Mystique and holds a hand out for her to be sure she's walking with him on the -other- side of Magneto. In this case, which side is which means nothing. (Honest!) "But, with this position, I will be required to... do that for Midgard which Thor did. I have to swear to protect it just as the other Realms. Which," here, he casts something of a .. embarrassed smile? Sheepish? Or perhaps amused with a kick to the side for a lopsided smile? "Makes things a bit awkward for me. Perhaps you can be of some assistance?" Yes, both of you.
Magneto just smiles at Mystique's quip, but does not acknowledge her, or even look at the woman. This behaviour is rare for him, and Mystique's seen it just a few times- usually when 'correcting' a wayward individual, or while being in the presence of someone who was protected by his archaic observation of the rules of guest and host. Magneto's slight is more subtle than simply pretending he can't hear Mystique.
He's pointedly ignoring her. Like she was a human.
"I would not for a moment dare to gainsay the All-father's intentions," Magneto says, shaking his head and holding up a hand, as if deflecting some unseen ire. "I might criticise some of his decisions, politely, but even you must admit, rulership is a difficult and unappreciated task," Magneto says, his tones soothingly sympathetic. "'Heavy is the head that wears the crown', wrote one of our most famous bards. Er, skjalds," he says, remembering the proper Asgardian term of a sudden.
And then Loki mentions Midgard, and Magneto's face goes blank. Just for a moment. Then he smiles at Loki, compassionately, and nods. "How can I say no?" Magneto says, spreading his hands at Loki and laughing wryly. "You ask me to defend my own home, and offer my the courtesy of assistance? What is my other response? 'No?'" He laughs with Loki, as if the man had made a jest, and looks out over the view as well, drinking in the spectacular image of Asgard. There's an artful pause. "I do not think our people are so different, Prince Loki," Magneto asides, looking still at the sun in the distance, the glory of the Bifrost. "Mine are evolving perhaps more wildly, growing more explosively diverse, but I sense yet that there is some common thread that weaves the Nine Worlds together. Asgard, Midgard, Jotunheim... we are all connected. And by alliance, we gain everything, and risk losing... nothing." He clasps his hands behind his back again, cape flaring in a sudden gust of wind.
It need not be asked for nor suggested, Mystique takes up the side opposite of Loki in order to hem Magneto in between them. Things are not over between these two X-Genes. It may never be. Maybe Magneto isn't treating her as she feels that he should, but she's confident that she'll outlive yet another ruler of their kind. Why stress over it?
Here, with Loki's question lingering upon the air, the metamorph's expression earns a cool smirk. "Finally you will have a chance to work toward what you have always claimed to have desired, Erik. No more petty alliances, no more hiding upon a troubled island nation. No more questing for personal power over that of your own kind," she verbally jabs once more.
"Our time is now. This is a new dawn for all of us. It begins right here."
The part which she doesn't spell out is that Magneto -will- help them. Otherwise, she's fully prepared to gut him with her own flesh and bone, quite literally in every sense of the word, before Loki, himself. A man of Erik's power, he's either an asset or an obstacle. Neither Mystique nor Loki are interested in having more opponents in the battles ahead.
"If you're not afraid to get your gloves dirty with the rest of us."
As Loki works more and more with Mystique, there is that growing familiarity, that understanding that passes. A silent ally, a willing ally, a powerful ally all rolled into one lovely blue form. And each motion forward, it appears that their goals are the same- mostly. It is this, too, upon which Loki is wagering in terms of Magneto. Unless he's underestimated the man, or completely misunderstood intentions.
Which, sadly, has happened before. On Midgard.
Loki looks upon the vista before him; the city, the gardens, the streets that are filled with horses, their riders or wagons. It's an odd mixture of magic and technology here; both live within a breath of the other. Though it has been said 'Advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic'.
A seemingly genuine smile comes to his face, one youthful and appearing guileless even though there is keen intelligence and ability within his gaze. "Our time is now. And that is exactly what it is I am asking, Imperator. The calls for aid, when they come to me, I will come to you, and we will see to Midgard's relief. When you act in my stead, you will have the support of Asgard and all she commands in my name." What remains unsaid, however, is also undoubtedly quite clear. It's when actions are done that deliberately oppose his will?
Loki is certain that it needs not be said.
"Our time is now."
"I think we understand one another perfectly, Prince Loki," Magneto says in a deep baritone, his voice lowered in contemplation. His expression broods for a moment, contemplating, then blossoms into a wide smile. He offers Loki his hand- a proper Midgardian handshake, and a salute to the Prince, all the same gesture. "Yes. A common thread, as I said. Midgard has long suffered under the casual yoke of your brother's 'aid'. I am hoping your reign is substantially more beneficial for us all." He smiles again at Loki, then steps back and offers a short bow, before turning and taking his leave from the pair- the mutant and the mastermind, his shoulders back, head held arrogantly high, and his face unreadable to anyone he passes.
Mystique allow the interaction to take place, silent, as watchful as ever. She knows that Magneto's going to give her nothing more, and yet he's just given Loki his everything.
Pity. She was rather fancying the flesh and blood approach, herself.
As the Imperator walks away, looking as though it were he that has just inherited all of Earth, she turns those glowing golden eyes back upon Loki and speaks in a tone which only the two of them would overhear.
"That man is not to be trusted. Use him as you wish, but do not lose sight of him."
The expression 'use once then destroy' comes to the metamorph's mind.
Loki accepts the outstretched hand, and straightens, "I think we do." Does anything else need to said on the matter? Any more would simply muddy the water. Now, now is the time for plans. Depending upon what is occurring on Midgard, perhaps fires need to be set as 'controlled burning' in order to clean the land so larger conflagrations don't ignite and run out of control. He'll think on that matter.
"It will usher in a new time for the Realms, I promise," Loki's tones sound low but so very clearly as he retrieves his hand.
Once Magneto has turned and departed, Loki looks out towards the city proper, his head quirking as Mystique offers her opinion regarding 'trust'. A quiet chuckle sounds, and he doesn't even need to turn to look at her in his answer. "That word is used so often, and it amuses me. I trust a wild animal to do that within it's nature. I trust Magneto to do that which is ultimately in his best interest. Which is all I expect."
Category:Log