Inbox (Fade Rift)

[apocalypsegrown]

INBOX

 

Comments

[apocalypsegrown]

[ There's a crinkle to her eyes when she smiles at him that signals that she's pleased with his calling her out, and she follows it with sitting back and actually listening to his suggestion. ]

Hmm. Something true and something false. Well. I have a cult following dedicated to furthering my interests as the Goddess of Mischief, or prior to coming to meeting Loki, I've not had a conversation with a person that spanned more than a single encounter in a thousand years.

[ An easy one, she knows. More an apology for her own inability to carry a conversation than anything. ]

[favoriteanalyst]

[Frankly, it's not as easy as she thinks. Loki is pretty well convinced he's a god, even while dipping toes into the 'what makes a god/what is the definition of a god' conversation. Why would it be any different with Sylvie, who first thing already purported to be a goddess? And being not great at conversations doesn't mean never having more than one with any given person. In a thousand years? A thousand years definitely sounds suspect. She has to be, what, in her thirties, perhaps?]

Mischief? [He still looks unconvinced about either one, actually.] That doesn't sound like something to be a god of. Maybe a god of Satinalia fools or something. Do merry pranksters really need a god of their own?

[apocalypsegrown]

Of Mischief, tricksters, those lost people and things that are neither good nor bad, of fire and fishnets and whole lots of things. Midgardians love writing up stories about us, of Asgard, of their gods. Our brother Thor is the god of thunder, of fertility, of harvest and war.

[ There's a little beat, and she sits back a bit. ]

Merry pranksters and underdogs and those people stepped on who are just trying to claw their way up, yes they need a god of their own. I think so at least.

[favoriteanalyst]

Pranksters and underdogs aren't the same thing. God of the downtrodden, god of peasants, that's different from mischief.

Do you really have any control over any of that? Where you're from?

[apocalypsegrown]

Guess that's a difference in our opinions then, on what mischief means to different classes of people.

But no, not much. There's some truth in some of the stories, but I'd hardly know how my universe intended to play out my personal variation since it was destroyed when I was a child.

[favoriteanalyst]

[Hm. Okay. That's a lot to unpack, and we might just have to throw out the whole suitcase. The boat rocks a little as it docks, and when he makes to stand, he is still perfectly willing to be arm in arm with her and help her up.]

Mischief sounds like bored kids with nothing better to do. But I imagine it must mean something different in different contexts to different people.

I think you converse just fine, by the way. Even when you're playing the mysterious witch or pseudo-god. [Does he want to get into 'what makes a god a god' with her? At this point, not really.] Do I wanna know where you've been if your home got destroyed? Or how?

[He recognizes that what she said was her universe, but that also includes or even means her home. It must mean she's been traveling to other worlds...universes...even before she was here. Without rifts in the Fade, it seems.]

[apocalypsegrown]

[ The boat thumps into the pier and everyone starts to shuffle off; Sylvie accepts that closeness and keeps Mobius' arm as he stands. Happy to still leech his body heat and keep some control over their little talk. ]

Hmm. [ Playing is not quite the right word, but she'll shelve that for now as well. ] Well, traveling between worlds and points on the sacred timeline of course, a lot of tinkering, a lot of killing those who wanted to kill me, searching for a safe place to nap when the only haven you have is the end of a world's existence.

[ That is a nice thing about Thedas, she's never been so well rested or well fed in...well... since Asgard. ]

[favoriteanalyst]

...Okay. [He doesn't immediately call any of it bullshit, because there's a lot going on there. She seems to tend to put truth and lies together, and this is...out of his depth. It's the only thing he says for a bit, face scrunched up in thought as this disembark onto Kirkwall streets.]

Okay, [again, at last] I'm man enough to admit that I don't understand.