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notawitch) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
maskormenacelogs2018-08-26 08:59 pm
notawitch) wrote in maskormenacelogs2018-08-26 08:59 pm
Entry tags:
[closed]
WHO: Loki and Kylo Ren
WHERE: Way back in ol' Shimmer
WHEN: ^^^^
WHAT: Two bitchy drama club goths with daddy issues walk into a memory share event
WARNINGS: Wannabe supervillains being stupid and dramatic, probable violence
[It's as though he's dreaming, but he doesn't remember falling asleep.
There's a woman, a mother--his mother, but not his. Her hair is all wrong, the feel of her, her scent, but then all the details click in his memory perfectly like the flip of a switch. She strokes his cheek and smiles down at him all the same, with all the confidence that he is hers, a face he's never seen and yet is achingly familiar. He reaches for her with the eagerness of a child but instead he falls.
He doesn't remember where to, or from, or where and when he lands. He travels through a nothing as complete inside of him as it is out--maybe it's from him that it came from all along--a void without a beginning or an end. Wherever he lands it's in the wrong place.
He has a purpose now, a power that uses him as much as he uses it. Burning red, searing blue at the same time, bleeding together and yet neither at all. There's a presence there, a figure that shifts and mutates, that is indescribable and inexplicable but its hold over him stains through the red-blue-red boiling in his blood. It owns him. It reaches for him and he doesn't know whether to run toward or away.
No. Something is wrong.
He steps down and feels the crunch of bone beneath his foot, visceral and gratifying. His father calls him a son and then is dead by his hand, and grief and satisfaction fight within him like a whirlpool, funneling everything that is him back into the void he came from.
There's someone else here, someone entangled within him like two skeins of yarn snarled together, the lines of their bodies bleeding and mixing together and muddying like watercolor. But almost as soon as the awareness comes to him it's gone again, lost in the overlap between himself and this stranger.
The void howls blue, red, blue. It would be so easy to give over to it and never have to think, ever again.
For another split second, the span of a single thought, he is himself again. He is Loki and only Loki, and he can once again feel where he ends. With all the surety of instinct, of the primal fear of losing his own mind, he shoves out before he succumbs once more, grabs the borders of himself and of the other one and throws them apart.
It isn't pleasant or smooth, but some things are too urgent to waste time on finesse.]
WHERE: Way back in ol' Shimmer
WHEN: ^^^^
WHAT: Two bitchy drama club goths with daddy issues walk into a memory share event
WARNINGS: Wannabe supervillains being stupid and dramatic, probable violence
[It's as though he's dreaming, but he doesn't remember falling asleep.
There's a woman, a mother--his mother, but not his. Her hair is all wrong, the feel of her, her scent, but then all the details click in his memory perfectly like the flip of a switch. She strokes his cheek and smiles down at him all the same, with all the confidence that he is hers, a face he's never seen and yet is achingly familiar. He reaches for her with the eagerness of a child but instead he falls.
He doesn't remember where to, or from, or where and when he lands. He travels through a nothing as complete inside of him as it is out--maybe it's from him that it came from all along--a void without a beginning or an end. Wherever he lands it's in the wrong place.
He has a purpose now, a power that uses him as much as he uses it. Burning red, searing blue at the same time, bleeding together and yet neither at all. There's a presence there, a figure that shifts and mutates, that is indescribable and inexplicable but its hold over him stains through the red-blue-red boiling in his blood. It owns him. It reaches for him and he doesn't know whether to run toward or away.
No. Something is wrong.
He steps down and feels the crunch of bone beneath his foot, visceral and gratifying. His father calls him a son and then is dead by his hand, and grief and satisfaction fight within him like a whirlpool, funneling everything that is him back into the void he came from.
There's someone else here, someone entangled within him like two skeins of yarn snarled together, the lines of their bodies bleeding and mixing together and muddying like watercolor. But almost as soon as the awareness comes to him it's gone again, lost in the overlap between himself and this stranger.
The void howls blue, red, blue. It would be so easy to give over to it and never have to think, ever again.
For another split second, the span of a single thought, he is himself again. He is Loki and only Loki, and he can once again feel where he ends. With all the surety of instinct, of the primal fear of losing his own mind, he shoves out before he succumbs once more, grabs the borders of himself and of the other one and throws them apart.
It isn't pleasant or smooth, but some things are too urgent to waste time on finesse.]
no subject
How long has he been trapped, tangled up in the blending? How did they find themselves here? He can't trace his path back through memories sharp at the edges where they have been severed. ]
What--
[ Is that his voice? Or the other's? Vague, disconnected panic rises, swiftly melting into anger. ]
What have you done--
no subject
[The words pour out in an angry hiss before Loki can gather his composure, as deeply rattled as he is. It takes him another moment to even realize that there is, in fact, another person here; he'd been so concerned with removing the foreign influence from his mind and body that he hadn't stopped to consider it wasn't actually a deliberate attack.
He stares at Kylo, breathing hard, as reality--such as it is--reasserts itself.
It takes much longer than is comfortable. Faintly, he recognizes Kylo from Thor's idiotic "post."]
You think this is my fault.
no subject
It's always your fault.
[ The snarled accusation slips out almost without thought. It doesn't quite belong to him. ]
no subject
It's a blur of his own voice, shouted back at him, convincing enough that he momentarily fades back into himself.
He can still sense something isn't quite right, but it's a positive feedback loop of self-doubt, and it's disorienting.]
Shut up. [He appears to rethink that.] You're not wrong, but that's not productive.
no subject
Slightly. ]
Then undo it. Now. Take it back.
[ His voice wavers. It's there, within him. And he can't remember if it's always been there, that howling emptiness, that hunger, that need that can never, ever be satisfied. ]
I don't-- I don't want it.
no subject
Doesn't matter. Loki has long since accepted there are parts of him that are childish. He'd just never had to deal with them in the flesh.]
Do calm yourself. I need time to think. [To demonstrate, he looks around... whatever clearing they find themselves in, as if it might give him anything useful.
It doesn't.]
no subject
That's not how it works. You either have the answer or you don't- time will gain us nothing.
no subject
The thought of Thor brings him back to the initial flash of recognition--this is not him, but someone he's seen before, because of Thor--but it's gone just as quickly, though it leaves Loki disquieted.
None of that's really relevant. What is relevant is that this guy is really annoying.]
Has it really never occurred to you to maybe think things through before you act? In case you missed something vital the first time? Hm?