Stuttering, cold and damp (for coldsong)

[amourpeint]

It was one thing to know your world had boundaries. It was only natural, a horizon only spread so far, the land only stretched to a certain point. The world the Canvas somewhat mimicked was vast to be sure, but round- one would only wind up back where they started someday. The Canvas only went as far as it's young creator cared to let it, a vast continent and wild seas, but the idea of more was a tenuous thing for a child, so it was little surprise that the bounds of his created world had more obvious barriers. Where other Painters with more experience might mask the sight with walls or mountains, curtains of rain or leaves, there was no such blinders here, just letting those who existed in the Canvas and dared draw close see the oil-slick shimmer of paint and magic that sustained their world. Verso knew better than to test the barriers, knew that the wild chaos of the chroma that swirled there would simply unmake anyone or anything unfortunate enough to try and pass into the maelstrom.

Not that he could try it himself. Aline had wanted her painted family protected, which meant immortality, which meant that he was all the more restricted from so much as touching the edges of the world.

Given her meticulous skill and control, it was a testament to the impact grief had on her that the same care didn't seem to have been taken in the Monolith itself. At least none of the others had been there. He'd come back on his own, not sure what he'd been looking for. And without the Paintress to sustain it, the edifice had become all the more unstable, paths and bridges that had once been stable and safe to traverse suddenly treacherous. Feeling the stone crumble under his boots, unable to catch an edge, Verso expected a rather unpleasant tumble and an even more unpleasant landing. Here was hoping he could recover before Monoco came looking for him. He'd never hear the end of it.

And yet... the fall continued. The world around him went dark, and he felt something wrong as he tumbled through the void. It was a lucky thing that he didn't feel like he was falling any faster, in fact the rate seemed almost gentle, which meant when he was suddenly blinded by the sudden wash of sunlight, and hit what seemed to be smooth bright stone paths in an absolutely graceless sprawl, it wasn't nearly as messy or traumatizing for anyone who happened to see it happen.

Comments

[amourpeint]

"Well if you're going to lay that on me, you've got to give me at least a little time to build up my own reputation to fall back on if anyone's going to be looking at me side eye for your shenanigans. It's only polite."

As if falling from the sky for no reason didn't jumpstart that sort of thing. Definitely not the weirdest thing to happen to him, and he'd come out fine before, nothing said he couldn't come out of this smelling like roses too!

It was a strange thought, gods and men, but framing it in what Verso knew...

"Just because they don't need you in the same way as they did before doesn't mean they don't need you in other ways. Or just want you around. Like... oh, children. They grow up eventually, and their relationship with their parents changes, but typically they still want that relationship, whatever it becomes."

It was a conversation he recalled from memories not his own, Painters discussing the nature of their Canvas worlds and those within them, the morality of how to interact with them, if one should at all. It wasn't quite the same, but the broad strokes he thought fit somewhat.

[coldsong]

Loki listens to the advice with mixed feelings, brows creased, because his own relationship with his parents is...awkward. Every interaction with Odin feels more stilted than the last, and he cannot figure out what he's doing so wrong. Still, what Verso says has some merit.

"Mm. Maybe so. Sometimes, though, I think we need humanity more than humanity needs us." What's a god without someone to believe in them, after all? Just someone with some magical power and an inflated ego, that's what.

"But I shouldn't be telling you that, surely, seeing as you're human." There's a glimmer of humor.

[amourpeint]

If anyone could relate to that, it would be Verso. He's the king of Complicated Family Dynamics back home after all. But he's sure as not going to bring that up here unless forced. No, he'd rather just be Verso, random human of Earth than Verso Dessendre at the moment.

"I promise not to tell," He replied in what could be taken as a grave tone, if not for the curve of lips to a faint smile, a hand held up with a pinky extended. "I'll even pinky swear."

[coldsong]

Loki's smile in return is coy and utterly charming. He links pinkies with him, clasps gently, and then uses that hold to tug his hand a little closer and bows slightly, kissing the back with playful gallantry. "I'm holding you to that promise."

The tavern, it turns out, is very quiet this time of day. They're the only two patrons when they enter, and the staff recognizes Loki at once. Like the guardsmen outside, they seem a little wary of him, except that in this case one of the barmaids gives him a little smile and brings them a tray of pastries without asking. She gets a generous tip for her trouble, and Verso gets a cardamom bun shoved insistently into his hand. You will eat this and you will like it.

[amourpeint]

Verso can't help the lift of his brows at that playful response, but it appears to be more out of amusement than any offense. "Something tells me you're going to get me into trouble. Just try and make sure it's the entertaining sort, yes?"

He's more than relieved that the tavern is so quiet. Notices the air of the staff around Loki, but given his playful banter about his reputation, that tracks. That the barmaid seems pleased to see him also tracks for the charm he seems to be about stuffed to the gills with. But if one is going to be a troublemaker, being charming is just sensible. Whatever the case, Verso smiles and thanks the barmaid, blinking as he's suddenly in possession of a pastry. Not that it takes more than a single internal shrug before he's giving it a try, with a pleased hum at the flavor.

"You'll have a time getting rid of me if all the food here's this good you know."

[coldsong]

"I always try to make my trouble entertaining," Loki says reassuringly.

In point of fact, the tavern staff know Loki mostly by reputation, but that one barmaid has waited on him before. Whatever else he may be, Loki is a prince, and a prince must serve as an example by being generous to the people who serve and interact with him.

"Those are my favorite," he says of the cardamom bun. "Followed closely by the krumkake you can get from street vendors on holidays. The cheaper the vendor, the better. Don't ask me why it works that way."

He sighs and smiles weakly. "Unfortunately, my father will probably insist you be returned to Midgard, but I'll be sure to feed you while you're here."

[amourpeint]

Not all those in power went by setting an example like that. It definitely eased Verso's concerns somewhat. He doubted Loki would mean him actual harm- getting caught up in mischief certainly didn't count though.

"Some special magic only known amongst the street vendors I'd say," Verso mused, with a tilt of his head. "You only get it when you swear allegiance to their shadowy cabal."

The news he was likely to be sent 'home'... It could have been worse, honestly. Verso could likely get by just fine with a little adjustment period, not that Loki here needed to know that. He offered a sympathetic smile in response to that weaker sort of grin. "Not one for Paris then?" At least he had the original Verso's memories to tell him the differences between the Canvas' Lumiere, and Earth's Paris. "There's plenty of boulangerie I can introduce you to there."

[coldsong]

Loki commits far less intentional harm than many would have you believe, although chaos certainly tails him wherever he goes. At the moment, Verso is benefitting from both his curiosity and a vague sense of xenia. This is a guest in his realm, and Loki will treat him with hospitality as befitting his own role and station.

He laughs at the suggestion of a shadowy street vendor cabal and nods his agreement. "All too plausible."

"Ostensibly I'm not allowed to go to Midgard unless I'm sent there on a mission," he says, although something in his expression suggests he both resents that 'allowed' and does his best to circumvent it whenever possible. "The last time I was in Paris was...1816, I think? Post-Napoleon"

[amourpeint]

"That long, hm?" Verso took another bite of his bun, thoughtful a long moment as he chewed and swallowed.

"Well. If you're of a mind to see me off properly, we can probably set up a situation where it would surely be a kindness for you to accompany me, at least long enough to see me safely settled a few hours at the very least," He tilted his head, with a wry smile because he understands chafing at the idea of having to get permission for such things, but also was not mad at the idea of getting around it. "It means we can't argue Odin's oh so practical solution of sending me home, but by virtue of being the first to find and assist me, and my clear unease around the others would make it just as practical for you to be the one to make sure I got safely back to Paris."

Obviously it depended on Odin either not clocking, or more accurately, not concerning himself with what mischief Loki might be up to in the process, but if it was framed right, and Loki seemed just put out enough by the idea, it might work out.

"That it might take a few hours at the least for us to get me safely to my home wouldn't be so strange- it's a large city after all."

[coldsong]

"Well, congratulations, you're the most interesting event I've encountered in a while. I haven't forgotten how peculiar it is that you just fell out of the sky, either. I did think it would be polite to let you acclimate before asking you impertinent questions, though." And it's possible Odin's attitude towards the mystery will be who cares, send him home and patch up the hole.

He smiles then, and it makes him look just a bit younger than before, the prospect of a small adventure. "Are you offering me a tour? Careful, I'm starting to like you."

[amourpeint]

And even if Odin was interested in the mystery, it was highly unlikely he would be inviting Loki into his thoughts and investigations, not as chaotic as he seemed to be. The air Verso was picking up on reminded him of his interactions with his own father in some ways, for all little had been said. It was there if one was familiar, in the tone and unspoken comments.

"Honestly, I'm not sure how useful any answers I had would be, though you're welcome to ask them." He shrugged lightly with a smile that was almost apologetic. Even sharing his whole sordid tale wouldn't answer many questions, so the story he'd stick with for now would certainly offer little and less detail.

His smile did ease, widen a bit in the face of Loki's clear interest, as he dusted his fingers of crumbs. "A small enough repayment for your consideration, wouldn't you agree?"

Leaning to catch another sweet between fingers, lifting it lightly in a playful sort of salute as he settled back again. "And for the delicious pastries."

[coldsong]

Loki has immense respect for Odin (for now), but signs point to that not being mutual. It troubles him, because he's used to being able to figure people out. Used to being able to cold read them well enough to know what they want and expect from him, at least. With Odin, it's impossible to tell.

"Do you use magic, yourself?" He doesn't think so, based on the sense he has so far, but then magic means different things to different people. "I get the impression you didn't enter this world deliberately."

Hissmile lingers, and he nods encouragement as Verso takes another pastry. There's plenty for them both.

[amourpeint]

"No magic here," He only felt a faint brush of guilt at the twist of words. Technically true enough- Pictos and Lumina were considered technology back home, after all rather than actual magic. As for proper magic well... he was no Painter for all he had the memories of one. "Just a poorly designed ramp crumbling at the worst possible moment. I can't begin to tell you how relieved I am that I landed in one piece unscathed. A little thrown by the relocation, but that I'm alive to be thrown is a treat in this case."

And if he's especially pleased when he bites into his newly pilfered treat and tastes strawberry, well he's always enjoyed them.

[coldsong]

"A poorly designed ramp over a portal to other worlds?" Loki rests his chin in his hand, elbow on the table, and looks fascinated. "I've walked between worlds since I was a child, but I've never fallen between them accidentally. There may be some sort of aetheric problem where you've come from. Tears in spacetime large enough to allow a person through aren't meant to occur very often."

His gaze goes a little distant as he thinks this over. For all that he's a mischief-maker, he's also a great big nerd and the idea of a complicated cosmic problem to solve is exciting.

"Mm, but yes, it's good that you didn't break anything. You seem exceptionally sturdy for a human."

[amourpeint]

"Well, as far as I was aware, it was a ramp across a ravine above some rather nasty waters," Verso mused, though there was part of him already mulling the puzzle over in his mind. "I'm not sure what markers might indicate the sort of... tear you're thinking of, but I'm hardly an expert."

He did notice he wasn't the only one clearly turning this little mystery over and over in their thoughts like a little jewel. Mischief often went hand in hand with curiosity, so it wasn't entirely surprising to him.

"I like to think I'm a fairly healthy example of one, but I think whatever caused the shift slowed my fall quite a bit, if we're being fair. I had far too long to consider that I'd been falling for quite longer than I should have before crashing your day."

[coldsong]

"There's something very Alice-in-Wonderland about it," Loki says with a flicker of a grin. There's that mischief again. "You didn't happen to see a white rabbit first? I suppose it's too late to warn you about eating or drinking things that might drastically alter your height."

The pastries on the table between them will do no such thing. Worst case scenario is a sugar rush. It's still a little bit funny. "I insist on being the Cheshire Cat."

[amourpeint]

"No white rabbits that I'd seen, sorry to say." He was relieved that he knew what Loki was talking about. Surely the earth here and the earth he remembered weren't so different in that case? He did however give Loki a considering once-over before nodding with an amused grin of his own. "Acceptable though, you'd make an excellent Cheshire Cat all things considered."

[coldsong]

"Oh, you have no idea."

It's not that he's been waiting for a chance to show off his abilities to you, Verso. It's just that any excuse to shapeshift is a good excuse. Loki lifts his head and stretches, both arms up for a moment, then dwindles in a shimmer of green-gold. A second later, a very fluffy smoke-grey Norwegian Forest cat hops onto the stable. Its eyes are a familiar shade of green.

[amourpeint]

Whatever Verso had been expecting? Definitely not that. Maybe he should have- a god surely had powers of the sort in all the tales he's heard after all. But it still had him blinking in startled surprise at the shimmer of magic. Definitely not how Monoco managed his transformation in that almost comical bamf of smoke like a magician pulling a trick. A child's imagining of shape changing. This was quite a bit more elegant.

And adorable, it turned out, the man's eyebrows lifting, a startled laugh slipping from him as he saw the vibrant eyes and put two and two together.

"Oh la vache!" He couldn't help but laugh, expression brightening. "Mon ami, you make quite the handsome cat!"

And since what's the point of immortality if you can't pet cute animals that may or may not maul you for your trouble, Verso will just reach to give a light rub to the top of Loki's head. If he clearly doesn't want it he'll stop but you can't take that form and not expect at least one attempt at pats.

[coldsong]

Well, that's rewarding! Very rewarding, indeed. Loki starts purring right away, though fortunately he's not grinning like the Cheshire Cat. He preens for a moment, allowing himself to be admired, and Verso is in luck. There will be no mauling. Rather, he bonks his head lightly into Verso's fingers, encouraging the petting.

"Thank you! I spend more time as a snake or a wolf, all things considered, but there's something very cozy about being a cat."

[amourpeint]

Excellent. Verso's kept more dogs in his life than cats, but one couldn't go anywhere in a city without coming across the feline citizenry, so he'd gotten experience in giving proper pets and scritches that he was more than happy to put to use now, since Loki clearly approved. Fingers working behind his ears just working through plush fur as he chuckled softly.

"I can only imagine, cats seem uniquely able to be utterly relaxed no matter the situation around them if they so choose."

[coldsong]

Loki is happy to remain in this form for a while, letting himself be petted as they chat. It seems likely he'd linger for longer, in fact, but eventually a uniformed soldier enters and comes to their table, looking a little uncertain, at which point Loki sighs and stretches and hops down, taking back his previous shape.

The Einherjar don't always know him at a glance, but Heimdall can send them in the right direction if he's needed. Now he and his guest are being summoned, but at least the delay means Odin trusted Loki not to let a stranger run amok for a little while.

Indeed, when they have their audience with the king, he seems both unimpressed and unconcerned by Verso's presence. Just a human, after all, and one who has made no aggressive moves. Strays don't normally occur in Asgard, but they crop up in their other lands from time to time.

It is on Frigga's insistence--without Loki having to use reverse psychology at all--that Loki is assigned to accompany Verso back to Paris. He sighs, but makes no real argument, only a brief exchange where he raises an eyebrow at her, and she gives him a little smile that fails to be innocent.

On the way out of the council chamber, he murmurs to Verso: "She expects me to return with chocolate. It's a little informal agreement we have. It can't be grown in Asgard or Vanaheim, so she enables my escape every now and again and I come back with chocolate and Midgardian coffee."

[amourpeint]

It went about as well as Verso could have hoped. He stayed respectfully quiet, aside from any questions directly asked him, otherwise allowing Loki to take the lead in interacting with his parents. Odin's disinterest works in their favor here, so he was happy to play the utterly unremarkable human here and get... well not home, but the closest thing to it he would likely find if he really was barred from the Canvas. Paris... would be a decent alternative all things considered.

And he noted the interactions between Loki and Frigga, unable to help the faint upward twitch of his mouth at the familial way they could just speak without words needed.

At the aside, Verso hummed thoughtfully, smiling lightly in response. "Well then, we'll just have to find a proper shop. Get her some lovely chocolates, coffee, and maybe a nice bottle of wine as a bonus. You can't bring her presents from Paris and not include wine after all."

If that meant they got to spend a little time lingering over a wine tasting in the process of picking just the right bottle, well that just sounded like an excellent way to settle himself after this little misadventure.

It's... surprisingly easy to get there. Verso isn't sure why Heimdall looks at him like that when Loki tells the man they're headed to Paris, with that knowing golden gaze, but he's entirely relieved when the moment seems to pass. Not that he has time to ask Loki what that's about- the teleportation is a riot of color and movement, resolving in the pair standing on a side street in the midst of a scorched, still lightly smoking circular design. It takes him a moment to shake himself back to sense, but he offers a grin Loki's way, already turning to lead the way with the assured confidence that Loki would follow, and that he knew the way- the street was quiet and deserted this time of day, the residents of the ornate apartments elsewhere in the city, and he could hear the bustle of what was undoubtedly a main thoroughfare a bit farther along.

"Right, what'd you like to do first? We can find a boulangerie, do some sightseeing, find the promised treats for your mother-" It didn't take him much longer than that to reach the cross-way, to step onto the sidewalk on the larger street, only to stop short, any further commentary dying in his throat.

Catching up to him? Loki would be treated to the sort of expression, pale, a bit gobsmacked in a way, that likely should have accompanied his landing in Asgard not a homecoming.

[coldsong]

Loki, too, notices the way Heimdall looks at Verso, and it makes him feel strangely defensive. Don't look at my mortal like that! Not that Verso is a person he can keep for long enough to really consider him Loki's, but for a few hours he gets his full attention, and when you're a little starved for company, that's enough.

He's just pleased Thor wasn't around to take over this mission, or to have to share it with.

When they land, Loki takes a moment to pluck at the lines of energy where the Bifrost makes its mark. In the old days, humans either ignored the strangeness or knew to avoid a sacred symbol, but things have changed in the last century. Leave a noticeable, smoking rune on the sidewalk and someone will take notice. He's quick to follow Verso, though, jogging a step or two to catch up, and looking around. It's been a long while since he's been in Paris, but he gets to visit Midgard on business every couple decades, so the general modernity isn't surprising to him.

"I mean, anything we do counts as sightseeing," he begins, but then pauses as the man trails off. He looks like he's seen a ghost, or is about to become one, and Loki puts a hand on his shoulder as if to steady him.

"...Verso? Are you all right?" The hell is he even staring at? The street looks normal to Loki. A few ugly commercial buildings ruining the old-world charm, but otherwise...

[amourpeint]

It was... different.

Verso had expected differences- his memories of Paris were perhaps skewed a bit by being memory and thus prey to nostalgia, especially with why he was painted. He might not recall exactly all the dark seedy corners properly, the edges of wallpaper or the tread-worn patterns in sidewalks and streets. And he knew not to expect it to be too much like Lumiere either- Lumiere had been the idealized construct of a grieving woman looking to escape after all, even before the Fracture had warped it further. So the lack of shattered debris floating overhead was no surprise. That he could see the Eiffel Tower rising over the skyline no longer twisted and deformed was no shock.

The people... the throngs bustling about on their way to and from various errands were no surprise either even if they were somewhat overwhelming in sheer numbers. Their dress was strange, drawing Verso's attention for a scant moment as he seemed to almost startle into movement, though the gaze skittering over a group that passed close enough to give he and Loki a confused glance in passing didn't really seem to register them overmuch. Nor, unfortunately, did he seem to realize that Loki had spoken to him, slipping from his hand though more accidental than design as he took a few steps, by some miracle avoiding collision with anyone, though that might have been that they were noticing the man and giving him a wide berth. Probably for the best, as he stopped finally, toes just about even with the curb.

The street was wrong. He'd seen cars before, remembered that they'd been starting to catch on back in Paris over the horse and carriage especially amongst the elite, and that at least one Expedition had attempted to use them, but the design was... the cars here were alien in design to him, near-incomprehensible as they trundled along, following the flow of traffic and the blink of streetlights and there were so many of them. The smell of asphalt and exhaust had him turning away abruptly, hands shaking slightly, gaze a bit too bright as it darted away from the street again as if on reflex, searching for something, anything to help center himself, taking comfort in the familiar facades of buildings as he started to walk again, a man on a mission though he knew not what it was.

Garish red and yellow had him stopping again, either ignoring or unaware of the people behind him who had to do an awkward hop-skip to one side or the other to continue around him, doing nothing other than muttering annoyances under their breaths as they noted the tension there. Verso? Could give two shits about what they thought, having gone about several shades more ashen, a tremor working through him almost like a piano wire trembling on the verge of a snap.

"What-" It was more an explosion of a gasp than a word, but Loki would surely get the gist as Verso's panicked gaze turned to him, a hand gesturing sharply towards the facade of a McDonald's that had been rudely superimposed into the charm of the neighborhood with it's gaudy lights and modern sleek lines. "What the fuck is that?!"

Loki, the man was not alright. And it seemed like an import fast food joint was the bridge too far for the poor guy today.