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

[coldsong]

Magic is thick in Asgard, part of the air and the land and the water. The Palace is built on the mysteries of Runes and seidr, and even the most mundane of the common folk know the otherworldly when they see it. For all that, though, no one is ever really prepared for a stranger to just fall out of the goddamn sky onto the path just outside the public gardens, and so after Verso lands, there's a moment of breathless, startled silence, and then a flurry of quiet alarm, and someone calling loudly for the Einherjar. There are people around him: men, women, and children. Truthfully it's early in the morning, else he might have landed on someone. There are quite a few souls about, but not half so many as there could be.

"Oh...I don't think that's necessary. There's only one of him." A tall, young man with black hair and sharp, blue-green eyes comes to stand near him. Almost over him, in fact, as if keeping an eye on him to make sure he's not going to harm anyone, or be harmed himself. "Settle down, I'll handle it."

There is confidence in his declaration, which approaches arrogance, and there's something about the richness of his outfit that suggests he has the political or financial power to back it up. Still, he looks the stranger over with visible curiosity and offers a hand. "Are you injured? Do you understand my speech?"

[amourpeint]

It's not Lumiere. Even after years away, Verso would know the wear of her streets, the accents of those who called her home. This was somewhere new.

That in itself was jarring- and hearing the alarm in voices around him, some seeming younger, it made him glad that the nature of pictos meant that for the moment he seemed unarmed. He didn't think they'd be capable of killing him, but he'd not enjoy the attempt, and wasn't looking forward to playing possum should someone try. And the Einherjar wasn't something he was familiar with, but the tone suggested some sort of law enforcement or watch. It was somewhat overwhelming to be around so many others, to see so many people. To see elderly people aside from Renoir. He found himself for a moment caught staring at an older woman with what was undoubtedly her grandson clutching her hand before he shook himself from his startled reverie. Someone was speaking. Someone was closer, and it was he who Verso turned his attention to next.

This one was clearly in charge, or thought he was at least. That none of the others, elder or no argued the fact, combined with his posture and manner of dress meant he was Somebody at least. How far that authority went, Verso didn't know, but he made a quick judgement and decision in the moment, letting an almost careless sort of confused smile cross his lips as he accepted the offered hand to get to his feet, carefully dusting his uniform off as he did.

"No injuries thankfully enough, and it seems I understand you all, lucky for me," With no idea where he was, or what the situation was? Better to make use of some of that charisma of his. A little charm and confusion to keep from seeming a threat or ill omen until he knew more of what was going on. "No one else was hurt, yes? Aside from a bit of a start?"

[coldsong]

A human. Loki is almost certain of that. Certainly an odd example of a human, though, to come stumbling through the aether and accept his landing without immediate panic. He is inclined to believe the look of confusion is sincere; there's no way this man came here alone, on purpose.

Although he might still be playing dumb. It's what Loki would do, in his situation.

"I don't believe so," Loki smiles faintly, all charm and benevolence, himself. He does glance around at the gathered citizenry, making sure. "Although I fear I will have to have this area cordoned off until my mother can have a good look at it. It's a rare day that a mortal man falls from the sky into the street."

"In the meantime, consider yourself a guest. I am Prince Loki. What shall I call you?"

[amourpeint]

It likely didn't help his attempts at pretending that Verso had spent so long apart from others. His main sources of companionship as the decades had crept along being Gestrals, or the odder sorts of people that risked the Expeditions anymore certainly didn't leave him as socially adept as he'd like to be playing this role. But then this was somewhere... else? Maybe he could play off cultural differences.

"Ah, well it seems that much is the same," Verso agreed with a wry smile. "It's definitely not the norm back home either."

A prince. Certainly someone to stay on the good side of, which meant playing confused but friendly would be the way to go. But his whole thought process came grinding to a sudden halt at the question, innocent and predictable though it may be. What shall I call you?

It wasn't like these people knew him. He could be... anyone. He could be anything. The possibilities had his breath lodging in his throat a long moment, positively dizzy for the idea of it.

"V-Verso," He was almost... reluctant to say it, to paint himself with that brush here, but he hadn't the time to mull over the idea. A thing he'd never... really considered before, for whatever reason. "I'm Verso. It's a pleasure to meet you."

[coldsong]

Loki laughs at that confession, brief as it is. Good to know that falling from the sky isn't his usual M.O., though he already suspected as much. "Well, that begs a great many questions, but I'll spare you them until we're somewhere you can sit and have a drink."

What shall I call you? was deliberate phrasing, no less. People don't always want to tell a god or sorcerer their real names, nor should they, but some sort of rapport must be established. "Verso," he echoes, and offers a handclasp. "Well met, Verso. You're a failure as a bird, I fear, but you've escaped being crushed like a bug on the pavement, as well, so that has to mean something auspicious."

A few men in light leather armor are approaching up the street on foot--not the Einherjar, but the city peacekeepers. It's worth noting they look almost intimidated to come near the Prince. Not afraid, exactly, but wary. Loki turns toward them with a little smile, knowing damn well they're expecting some sort of trick from him, but he shakes his head slightly as if to reassure them. For whatever good that does. It's not as if he'd tell them he was playing a prank, if he were.

"I will be escorting this guest to the palace," he says, pauses in thought then adds, "Mm, maybe to the King's Eye first, let him catch his breath. In the meantime, block off this area for about three hundred feet in each direction. People may still enter the garden, they'll just have to come and go by the side-gate."

[amourpeint]

"Much obliged." Verso responds with an amicable sort of grin as he accepted the handclasp readily. He knew he would have to answer questions, that went without saying in this situation, but a bit of time to get his proverbial feet under him and feel out the area a bit before he had to give any information? Absolutely invaluable.

"I keep telling people I've no interest in being a bird, and yet I find myself airborne regardless. You think I'd learn by now." Though his tone and posture were easy, there was a telling attentiveness in the flicker of his gaze when the peacekeepers make their appearance. Not the wariness of a criminal at the sight of the law, but the awareness of someone used to combat, and quick assessments. Not abnormal for Asgard, but definitely unusual for Midgard as it seemed to be now. Not that Verso was aware of that. He was aware of the wariness of the men around Loki. Interesting that, it didn't look to be the fear of a tyrant, but expectation of some manner of mischief. Something to keep in mind, it seemed.

"From the sounds of it, the King's Eye is where I'll be able to avail myself of that promised drink?" It would give him time to try and tease some more information from Loki, come up with some sort of game plan of what to explain. Normally he'd simply fuck off out of the area as quickly as possible, find somewhere quiet to observe and get his bearings, but given he'd immediately caught the attention of someone Important, that idea was right out the window.

[coldsong]

All in all, the Palace should theoretically be the safer place, but Loki knows his father, and meeting Odin right off the bat after landing in a strange realm is a terrible thing to inflict on an unassuming Midgardian. No, he'll try to reassure him a little first, and sound him out.

"I've been a bird," Loki says thoughtfully. "It's a lot more work than it looks like it is. I'm always starving after a flight; it's no wonder ravens are so eager to go right for the eyeballs when they find carrion. Quick and easy to swallow."

...ew?

Despite the grim conversation, he is making his own subtle observations of Verso's body language. He's calm, ridiculously calm for someone who's in a strange world and at the mercy of his hosts. He seems very alert, though.

"Follow me," he says, beckoning the man with him, and nods in answer to his question. "It's a tavern. Upscale, I'm afraid; I can't take you to any of the fun ones at this hour of the day." Not to mention, they're in rougher parts of town, inasmuch as any part of Asgard can be rough.

"Oh, and do me a favor and don't try to run off. I'm sure people already think you're some sort of prank I'm pulling, I'd rather not get blamed for things I didn't do."

[amourpeint]

If there was one thing Verso knew how to do? It was pretend at calm. Perhaps partly genuine- one lost a lot of fear of the unknown when they're unable to die, after all. And given he was, at the most basic, a pivitol part of a goddess' crashout, being at the mercy of powerful people was not nearly the harrowing thing it could be to anyone else.

"You're a shapeshifter then?" That was curious- Verso only knew one back home with that skill, and Loki didn't appear to be carrying around a foot collection so... a different mechanic? It also hinted that this man had power beyond the political, a quiet reminder to watch his ass. That didn't stop the subtle shift in posture, a pique of interest in the idea. "You're likely right, though I'll be keeping distance should you take that particular shape. I'd rather keep my eyes in good shape you understand."

He has no issue in the moment with following Loki's lead, falling in at his side, head tilted slightly so he could both listen to Loki, and keep an eye on where they were going. Both from the practicalities of a new place and... he was curious. It had been so long since he'd seen anything new. The comment on the fun sort of taverns earned a low chuckle from him.

"At this time of day, that sort of place is a bit more depressing than entertaining if we're being fair." And they tended to be busier, rowdier than the nicer places. Which... would be a bit much. Verso already felt that faint unease settling in at the general bustle of the city, the amount of people he could see around. After Lumiere, and then so long in smaller groups, then alone? Quiet midday bustle was already a lot, that sort of evening crowd? Overwhelming.

"Well, I don't know where there is to run off to yet, and I'd rather take credit for my own mischief if I'm of a mind, never fear."

[coldsong]

Please don't suggest a foot collection to him, Verso, he'll think it's hilarious, and Asgard isn't ready for Loki to start stealing toes.

"Oh, I don't do ravens, don't worry." He smiles charmingly. "My preference is a Siberian jay. They're disarmingly cute."

He glances sideways at Verso's reassurance, as if checking to see whether he means it. He seems satisfied by whatever he sees. "Good. I have a reputation to maintain. It's a bad reputation, but it's mine and I cultivated it carefully."

"For the record, you're in the realm of Asgard. Above you, the golden towers are the palace of Valaskjálf, where Odin All-Father sits and attends to protection of the Nine Realms. Including, theoretically, the Earth, but he tends to leave that one to itself more often than not, of late."

[amourpeint]

That really isn't going to dissuade him. Given one of his best friends is Monoco it's hardly a surprise that his sense of humor can be a bit... warped sometimes.

"If you want to get away with things, a cute face helps, and jays are good at that."

That comment about his reputation has Verso appraising Loki in kind, a wry sort of smile on his face. The phrasing seems... deliberate, whether Loki realizes it or not. It's mine. Verso can understand that sentiment. "Well, you might wind up guilty by association on occasion, but that's hardly my fault."

And he wanted information? Well he was getting some. He knew he was somewhere else, but... well to be fair he had no idea where else he might be. He knew of the world beyond the Canvas simply by virtue of being told, as well as the memories of the original Verso he held. But he didn't recall anything like... Asgard being real. Myth to be sure, but Loki wasn't talking about tales and stories. Verso's brow knit subtly as he thought rapidly through the problem. He was no Painter, but he had the memories of one. However... nothing he knew matched this. Unless he'd somehow slipped from one Canvas to another?

Unlikely. Theirs had been kept in the workroom, and no one other than the Dessendre family painted there. And none of their styles quite matched the grand gleam of the towers and city.

He needed to find out more. Maybe Odin knew the truth of things. Maybe it was something else entirely. Whatever the case he shook himself from his considerations with a faint hum.

"Of late? Any particular reason, or just enough on his plate without our nonsense atop it?" He was clearly not from around here, might as well lay claim to citizenship of Earth. It was... well, at least he knew enough about it to not sound completely nuts.

[coldsong]

Loki laughs out loud. "I might end up guilty by association? No one's ever said that to me before. Normally it's the other way around."

Clearly these two are going to be great friends, to everyone else's detriment.

He sobers a little at the talk of Odin and of Midgard, though. Not quite sad, but pensive and maybe a little wistful. "Humanity outgrew us, I think. Or they're in the process of doing so. They needed gods once, but now they really only need us to fend off some of the more violent inhabitants of the universe around us."

[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."