Zompania Draft - Draftees only, days 1-3.5

[lucetimods]

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

Comments

[complicatedliar]

[Loki giggles.] He was in the dungeon whilst mother was murdered. Because he thought I was trying to escape.

[selfhelp]

[...Well.

Ouch.]

...It's still not either of your faults. Blame yourself for not saving her if you have to blame yourself for something- I understand that sometimes you have to do that. But not for the murder. That's different. It's totally different.

[complicatedliar]

[Loki laughs softly.] Oh Billy. Such a lawyer when it suits you. That's my trick.

[That thought, that realization, gives him back some semblance of self control. He feels sick, and shaken, and the renewed grief cuts like he has swallowed one of his own daggers. But he's had to talk enough that he has calmed down to something that seems almost rational. It's hard to explain oneself while screaming, after all.

He uncurls his fingers from Billy's cloak and lets him go.]

[selfhelp]

...Sorry.

[He doesn't know what else to say. A lawyer? He's never considered it- he's not ruthless enough for that. Still, his words seem to have accomplished something, for good or for ill. Loki's moving. He'll accept small victories where he can take them.]

Can you stand up? We should get out of here...

[He sticks close, to make sure Loki would know that he's still here to help if it's needed.]

[complicatedliar]

Of course I can stand. [Of course he can. He's not that week, nor that foolish.

He tries to stand. He's shaking. It's just grief, false grief. That must be it.

Or it might be all of the blood that he spilled to no purpose at all, such a fool he is. His vision begins to gray out as he achieves his feet.]

[selfhelp]

[...Shit. Well, so much for that. Billy grimaces and reaches for his cape, tearing off a strip of the tattered material and tugging Loki's arm up to wind the fabric around it.]

Dammit... that looks bad. I could fly us back to the healers, or...

[He hesitates. A teleport would be faster, and much safer, but... he hasn't done a teleport in more than six months. It's actually really frightening to consider, almost as much so as the thought of crossing the battlefield itself.]

[complicatedliar]

Give me a moment to catch my feet. I needn't be carried. [No Loki, you really kind of do. Whatever the Dream Shifter did to you, it wasn't good.]

[selfhelp]

Shut up, that's bull.

[He's too emotionally exhausted to put up with false confidence or bravado right now. They're in danger, Loki needs help, deal with it.

Dammit, he'll have to try.]

Hold still.

[complicatedliar]

Rude. Why should my standing be so offensive to you? [okay, not the most coherent response ever from him. He may be losing the plot, slightly. It's been a rough evening.]

[selfhelp]

Because you're terrible at it right now.

[You're wobbling, man. Just behave and cooperate.

He closes his eyes, focusing inwardly. And he's really hoping the area around them is still quiet for the moment, because he has to let go of the forcefield to teleport them somewhere. He chants quietly under his breath, echoing the phrase over and over.

If all goes well, they'll be zapped right to the med area in a minute or so.]

[complicatedliar]

[Don't be ridiculous. Loki has never behaved a day in his life. Which should not be mistaken for just not having the energy to be as difficult as he'd like.

Rather he just leans against Billy.]

I'm so glad you're doing magics again. [Mother would have been glad too.]

[selfhelp]

[Billy half-staggers from exertion, casting too much magic in a short span (especially when he's still not used to it yet) and taking on half of Loki's weight, but he locks his knees until he regains his stability. He can't make it worse by falling, now.]

Hah... just in time, huh...? I'd be doomed if I wasn't...

[complicatedliar]

I suppose I would have been doomed as well.

[And this only makes him laugh again. What a pathetic death that would be. Though there is perhaps a certain sort of irony to it.

And Thor already dead. Already dead.]

[selfhelp]

[Billy has no answer to that. He'd rather not think about how close Loki could've come to death, or if anyone else could have pulled him out like that. Jut like he'd rather not think about he'd helped Loki stab someone, even if it was just an illusion. It's not like he'd known it at the time.

Biting his lower lip, he tugs Loki closer, starting to move. Get to a bed, find a medic, sit down for five minutes and try not to pass out. Preferably in that order.]

Come on... let's get you fixed up. What-ifs are pointless now.

[complicatedliar]

[Loki goes along with Billy rather passively. He doesn't have any desire left to fight, still too caught up by everything that had happened. And he feels far too tired.

He sits where he is told, and asks only one thing:] Do you know where Rogue is?

[selfhelp]

[Billy hesitates, sinking down into a chair beside the bed. It's not like he has bad news to deliver or anything, but he doesn't have good news, either.]

I don't, sorry... but the journals are working. I can call for her, maybe. If she's able to make it, I'm sure she'll want to see you.

[complicatedliar]

[Loki nods, then lays down and curls up on the bed. He's tired, and cold, and he doesn't want to think any more, though he can't seem to stop.]

I doubt she'll wish to speak with me. Don't bother her.

[selfhelp]

Why wouldn't she want to talk to you?

[He already knows he isn't going to like this reasoning.]

[complicatedliar]

[He shrugs one shoulder.]

We quarreled. [Though that perhaps wasn't an entirely fair summation of that horrible conversation. He sighed and closed his eyes. Faithless, doubting Loki again.] No, that's not quite right. 'tis more that I've caused her enough pain for one day. [He takes a shaky breath.] This is yet one more thing that was not real.

[He's already troubled her enough with things that aren't real, hasn't he?]

[selfhelp]

[...Yep. Definitely not liking that.]

I don't think she'd care, considering the circumstances. I know that- if it was me, if I'd fought with Teddy, and he got hurt... I'd want to see him, no matter how upset I'd been before.

[complicatedliar]

[He hugs his arms to his chest, not really feeling up to having any sort of argument. Part of him demands frenetic action, as it did in the wake of Frigga's true death, but as then, he's exhausted and helpless. He takes refuge in a sort of numbness. That will break soon enough, and he'll have little choice to consider how the world now stands. But it's too much. He needs a moment to remember how to breathe.] If you think it best.

[selfhelp]

I do.

[Billy reaches out to grip Loki's shoulder, gentle but secure, hoping that the touch will be somewhat grounding after everything he just experienced. It lasts a long moment before he lets go and stands up.]

I'll be back with some help. Don't move.

[complicatedliar]

I'm too fatigued to move. [He mutters this. He's not in the mood to fight any more.

But give him a few minutes to recover, a little healing, and he'll quickly vanish back out into the streets. He'll always try to outrun whatever troubles him first.]