lucetilogs | Zompania Draft - Draftees only, days 1-3.5

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Zompania Draft - Draftees only, days 1-3.5

Who: All Draftees
What: This is your death. Followed by your time-traveling life and desperate bomb hunting.
When: From May 22 to May 20 to early May 23 (days 1-4)
Where: Zompania
Summary: Information post here
Rating: Varies on thread, please mark explicit material.

This post is for the draftee-only portion of the Zompania draft--the day 3 death, time travel to day 1, and then the events until the arrival of the reinforcements. Be sure to use the above info post for any plotting needs you might have. Enjoy!

Please note that there is a specific top-level comment thread for:

The day 3 arrival of the draftees and the 6 hours that follow until the bomb is dropped
Death--This thread can be treated as REFERENCE ONLY. Responding to it isn't necessary.
Threads prior to departing for Zompania--post resurrection freak outs, arguments over how to proceed, etc.

All other threading, from day 1 until the reinforcements arrive, should be conducted as normal.

Be sure to tag this post appropriately: [canon] character name

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Frigga's hand tightens on Loki's shoulder.] This boy isn't your friend, my son. Listen to the lies he's telling you. You must defend us.

[Only that doesn't quite make sense, does it? Frigga is more than capable of defending herself. Billy isn't such a threat as that. None of this makes sense.

He needs a moment.

Loki tries to stand, only to find his legs don't quite want to support him any longer. He falls back down to his knees and half crawls a short distance away. The grass is very wet under his hands; it takes him a moment to realize that it's blood, his own blood.]

What--

Billy? Mother?

[Billy swallows hard, daring to hope. He's close. He can feel it. He's so close. He shifts to stand up, offering a hand out, ready to support Loki- to pull him up instead of holding him in place the way the imposter is. It's time to move, not just stand still.]

You can tell, can't you? There's something wrong with this. With all of it. She wouldn't want you to die like this, right? She'd want you to fight... to live. Just like everyone else who cares about you. Loki Friggason wouldn't just lay down and die.

[Loki reaches to take Billy's hand, then hesitates.]

How do I know this is you? How do I know any of this is real?

[He's beginning to doubt everything.]

[Frigga stays where she is.]

You are strong, my son. This spell is difficult, but you are equal to it. It will not hurt you, only tire both of us out. But if you let this impostor break your focus, it all all be for naught.

[Billy keeps one hand out, determined not to lose or give up here, not when he was so very close. But... how would he know? He can't use magic, it's Loki's head so it wouldn't work here. But it's his subconscious, and...

...would Loki's magic work? He's not certain, and he could be taking a huge risk if it doesn't work, but he doesn't know how else to prove his own identity. If this becomes a battle of her word versus his own, he's not sure he can win.]

It isn't real. That's the problem. But I think... I might be able to prove it.

[Reaching down, he unhooks the top of a pouch at his belt, and pulls out a dagger. The one Loki had given him, in fact. Frigga's.]

Do you still have your ward on me, Loki? It'd tell you if I got hurt, right? The real me?

Yes, I still have a ward on you... [If that is you--

But his eyes fix on the dagger, the very familiar lines of it. He gave that to Billy. But if this is a dream, he'd know that, wouldn't he? How can he trust anything? Still, hesitantly, he reaches out to touch the dagger's hilt with the tip of his finger.

It sings.

He raises his gaze to Billy's, breath hitching, and whispers:] Why isn't it singing for Mother?

[Billy bites his lip, eyes widening in slight surprise. He doesn't know what just happened; it'd never done that for him.]

It can't. It's not her. She's... not real.

[Solemnly, he presses the edge of the dagger to his forearm, between his armored glove and his elbow, and gives himself a shallow cut, hoping it's enough, hoping that it works.]

But I am. I... I'm so sorry.

[He feels that little echo of pain on the ward. It's real, isn't it? Could he dream such a thing? Could he dream the dagger Frigga gave him recognizing him, but not her presence?

His breath hitches in his throat. Then carefully, he wraps his fingers around the dagger's hilt, over Billy's. He leans forward to rest his forehead against Billy's. His eyes hurt. His throat hurts. His head swims.]

Please don't make me do this. Please. [He's already killed her once, and he didn't have to see her bleed. How can he do it again?]

[It's worse, somehow, Loki recognizing the truth. It had been easier when he was happy, or confused, or simply unsure. Now, though, with their hands joined on the dagger, with the truth covering them like a cloud, smothering all the joy and making it hard to breathe... he hates this more. He hates it so much.

He takes a shaky breath, his grip tightening on the dagger, free hand lifting to wind around Loki's shoulders to hold him there, wishing for all the world that he could just pull him free and leave it at that. But magic can't do everything. He knows that all too well now.]

I can't... make you do anything. You have to make that choice. All I can do is help you... and be here till it's over.

[Whether Loki chooses to do this, or... whether they both die, Billy isn't going anywhere. Even if he could escape, after all this, how could he leave?

No. Family means no one gets left behind.

The quote makes him smile, painfully, and think of Teddy. If they die today...

...No. I won't regret this.

At least... I tried.]

You won't be alone. I promise...

[but it isn't real. She isn't real. So how is this a choice at all?

Loki takes a deep breath, then begins to rise, leaning heavily on Billy as he does.

Frigga begins to stand. But even shaking and weak, Loki is fast. The dagger lashes out to cut across her throat. For a moment she hangs in the air, face surprised, shocked, betrayed, eyes fixed on Loki. She reaches a hand out toward him.

Loki screams like he will tear in two.

The dream shatters.

What falls to the ground is not Frigga, bit Loki does not see. He sags against Billy, a soft sound of despair coming from him.]

[Billy's still holding the dagger when it connects, though he closes his eyes as the blood appears. He can't bear to watch that happen again, not after yesterday. Instead, he focuses on Loki, only sparing a moment to cast a quick spell on the now-powerless shifter to make sure that they won't be getting up to attack them again. Maybe if Loki thinks they're dead, he can forget them more easily.

He gently pulls the dagger free of their joined grip, setting it down on the ground, and winds both arms around Loki, gently rocking as he would his little brothers when they cried with him if their mom wasn't around. With the illusion broken, his appearance is back to how it was before he'd stepped into the bubble- exhausted, dirty, covered in blood- but he pays it no mind, either. He's just so, so relieved.

I didn't fail... I didn't let him die, I...

...Thor, I saved him. I saved him for you.

It doesn't make up for what happened, but... it helps. A little bit, it helps. To know that this, at least, he can manage without failing.]

I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, Loki... I'm sorry...

[Loki doesn't really notice the state of Billy's clothes. Nothing matters to him; it feels as if nothing will ever really matter again. For a long moment he just stays limp against Billy, helplessly clutching at his blood-stiffened clothing.

This is more than he has capacity to bear, right now. Because it runs through his mind, what a fool, what a fool, how eager he'd been to grasp for forgiveness when there can be none, when there will never be any at all, and Frigga is still dead by his hand. Frigga dead, and him helpless in a cage while it happened, unknowing until a guard had told him. And now Thor dead, while Loki the fool thrice over had sat in his cage and bled for a shade because he was so desperate, so pathetically desperate...

Face pressed against Billy's shoulder, he begins to scream again, pain and grief and rage. His hands curl so tightly to fists that they shake. Around them, the grass begins to shred, the trees creaking and cracking, shaking in a breeze that is not there.]

[Billy is quiet at first, just holding him and waiting it out, although he keeps his eye very carefully on their surroundings to make sure they don't get ambushed and trapped again, or worse, killed outright. But when Loki starts screaming again, he jumps, startled, his gaze drifting to the ground below them, watching the trees and grass react to a power that he can't see, but he's definitely beginning to feel.

Shit.

His grip tightens, and he gives Loki a little shake, trying to get his attention.]

Loki... Loki, I... can't imagine what you must be feeling right now. But we can't... we're not safe here. We have to find the others...

[He could just teleport them directly - if he trusts himself to pull it off, that is - but he can't take Loki to their allies if he's going to freak out. Billy has no idea what Loki's using his magic to do, but if this gets any worse... what if someone got hurt?]

[Loki runs out of breath eventually, about the time Billy shakes him. He gives the boy a hopeless, almost blank look.

Around them, the trees explode into clouds of splinters. Destruction is sudden, indiscriminate, and absolute.]

[Billy can't help flinching at the sudden explosion, but he'd been bracing himself for something to happen; a split second before the wooden shrapnel and dust reaches them, a glimmer of blue flares from his eyes and surrounds them, causing the chips, blades, and branches to ricochet harmlessly away. A few splinters rain down on them from above before the shield can make it all the way around, but it's better than getting impaled by a flying branch or something.

He's trembling as the dust settles, eyes creeping open to meet Loki's gaze. The expression he finds there makes him lurch forward again, hands clasping either side of Loki's face and holding him there, clenching his teeth.]

Focus. I need you to focus. Look at me. We're alive. We're alive because of you. You destroyed an illusion, nothing more. You didn't kill her.

[But he did. He had killed her, as surely as if he'd held the sword Malekith thrust through her back. Loki started to laugh.]

But I did.

I'm getting...very good at this...

[Billy shakes him again, more urgently this time, frightened by his reaction. He's never seen Loki like this.]

No! You didn't. You never did. I refuse to believe that you could ever kill her- not when this is how you respond to even an illusion of it. It's not your fault, Loki.

[Loki hiccups, then starts laughing again, shaking his head.]

I told...told him where to find her.

[Everything hurts. He feels so sick and dizzy he can barely put words together. Silver tongue gone to lead? Oh, so tangled with lies.]

And then just sat...sat in my cage whilst she died.

[Just like he'd sat here, completely unaware of his brother's plight.]

[This part... he hadn't heard. Cautiously he glances around - still no one, despite the light, despite the explosion. They're lucky. Tightening the forcefield around them, he grips Loki's arms, holding him in place to try and keep his focus on Billy, to keep him upright.]

Tell me. Tell me what happened, all of it.

[He feels so strange, so woozy. Without Billy gripping him so tightly, he'd probably have fallen over by now. The words just come out, because he's too tired to stop them.]

When I was in the dungeon. Waiting for Odin to execute me--bastard. But Mother wouldn't let him. And then when the Kursed on...came in with the prisoners somehow. Broke out. Let out all of the other prisoners. But not me. Oh no. He left me to rot like everyone else.

But I told him. The best way to get out of the dungeons. The one that would take him to the shield room. Near the royal quarters. [He starts laughing again.]

And then he and Malekith killed Mother, after I told him where to go. And I just sat in my bloody cage. Sat in my cage while they killed her.

[That... okay, that sounds bad. Horrible, actually. But it's about the same level of guilt as he'd expected to hear. Loki loves his mother. It's the most obvious thing about him, actually. So to hear him say so blatantly that he killed her sounds like the biggest lie he's ever told in his life.

Loki always lies. It's a pretty common phrase, and it's true enough, a lot of the time. Even, it seems, to himself.

Pursing his lips, Billy pulls him into another hug, letting his magic close in around them, a soft, pale blue light warming the air and keeping them safe from the world, at least for a little while.]

That isn't the same as killing her. You shouldn't... say that. You couldn't have known.

[He clutches uselessly at Billy's cloak.] I should have realized. I should have been there. Thor was right for once in his bloody life. [The great and brilliant Loki, who plays games that last centuries, who plans his moves like an artist lays out dominoes, and how useless he had become.]

How could you be there, when you'd been locked away? It was out of your hands.

[It's not like that kind of awareness can help anyone feel better - he'd learned that with Teddy, with his own guilt for failing her. And it's not like he could understand this feeling, with both his parents still very much alive and an extra set to spare.

But he understands grief. And he knows how hard it is to let go of your guilt... and to keep it from overwhelming you, too.]

But that's precisely it. I could do nothing because I had been imprisoned. And that was my own miscalculation. I did this. [He chuckles dryly.]

So do you blame Thor for killing her too, then?

[It's asked quietly, calmly, without accusation. Speaking of Thor is still painful, with the dead man's blood on his face and clothes and the brother in his arms still grieving the loss of a different family member, but he figures the question is pretty essential.]

I tried to. [His voice is a bare whisper.] But he won that argument.

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