lorentzian | 01 ✴ written / action

My name is Jane Foster. And if I'm remembering everything correctly, which I can hardly believe, then I've been here before. That being the case, there are a few people I need to talk to. You'll know who you are.

For those who don't know me, you might remember a spectacularly failed attempt at escaping the enclosure some time ago. (Sorry for the vague time frame. I haven't figured out yet how long I've been gone.) For anyone who arrived after that time, I'm an astrophysicist who specializes in wormholes. Well, it's more complex than that, I also study quantum energy fluctuations and related terrestrial phenomena pretty much all over the world - Earth, I mean. Earth. Earth in 2013, for anyone curious. Sorry, this is getting off topic.

In a nice turn of events, I didn't wake up outside, so no search and rescue needed this time.

I guess, um.

Hi, everyone. Old and new. It's - weird to be back.

[ Once she's done writing that plain, unembellished message, Jane shuts her journal and sighs, staring at the blank wall opposite her. Thank the powers at be for small blessings, like waking up warm and comfortable for once instead of half-frozen on a forest floor.

Since the apartment in which she awoke is one of the unclaimed ones, there's nothing really here for her to make use of - or, alternatively, disturb. So a short while later she is slipping out the door, walking on tip-toe down the halls and stairways, though she'll pause at the entrance of the building. She doesn't relish the idea of going out in the cold barefoot and in only a sundress. So she'll skulk about there, deliberating while checking her journal periodically for responses. Anyone who doesn't immediately strike her as Overtly And Comically Evil will probably get a hello. ]

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I will answer whatever you may ask, and do so gladly.

[Anything he might tell so long as it was safe to tell, he would. For the most part he had never seen any harm in telling her what she wished to know. And while her joy at the journal does gladen his heart it is nowhere near enough to make up for his absence or what trouble his actions have caused her and Erik. But it is a start.]

They are not so dishonorable as we may have thought- they wish for much the same as I. The protection of earth. Their means and methods are far different than those I would use and that they see fit to take what they perceive may threaten the safety without warning but I understand their intent, even if I do not agree with their means.

No, I know. [ She heaves a sigh. ] I don't like SHIELD, but I get that they have a point. That -- they're the good guys, you know? But. I still don't like their methods. [ Her mouth twists. ] Besides, when it comes to Erik, it's more about....

[ She pauses abruptly, an odd expression on her face.

Then she looks at him with something approaching trepidation. ]

.... as much as I really hate to say this, we need to have the Loki conversation. Like... probably sooner rather than later. [ Wincing. Yes. Actually wincing. ]

...what of my brother?

[Because this feels like it has a great deal of importance and requires far more addressing than SHIELD. SHIELD can wait. This? Most likely cannot.]

Has he hurt you?

No! No. Not-- no.

[ She's almost laughing, because this is horrifying. How does she even begin to explain? ]

Oh, my god. Can you. Have you. Spoken to him? Since you got here? How badly did it go?

[Oh. Right.

How to explain this.]

I met him first when I arrived. He stole my trousers.

...

And forced me to enter the village naked.

...

And stole my armor from the armory and dumped it into the western lake.

...

And stole all the trousers that might fit me from the clothing stores.

...

And made me swear to not perpetuate what he sees to be the lie of being my brother.

...he was shockingly nonviolent and I would go so far as to say well humored over my return. He seems well, and loos much improved. There was no attempt to stab me- in fact when I made to strike him in a fit of lost temper he shushed me like a misbehaving hound.

He what?

[ Snort.

Jane immediately claps two hands over her face, but there's no hiding the amusement in the slant of her eyebrows and the bunched tightness of her shoulders. She is obviously on the verge of laughter and trying really hard not to, you know, actually do that. ]

That. [ She coughs. ] That's horrible. I mean. Um. The. Naked. Thing. And I, um. I'm glad he didn't try to stab you?

[The beauty of most of Loki's tricks is that, eventually, one could look back upon them and laugh. This one has come to that time far sooner than Thor might imagine simply for the joy it brought to Jane.]

He also made an illusory tattoo of something on my person, but that does not need to be discussed. For all that he might have done- it was not so bad.

[ Jane huffs a breath. ] Okay. Okay. That -- makes this easier? I think. Look, um. .... [ She glances around, as if realizing this is kind of a weird place to choose to talk. ]

... The first two times I was here, you ... you weren't here. But Loki was. And I had ... months to get to know him. He's... we.... it's complicated. [ She blows out a breath, looking off to one side. ] We're ... friends? I think? Sort of? [ Her shoulders shift with discomfort and she looks sheepish as hell. ]

Much with Loki tends to be quite complicated, be it intentional or no.

[Even something so simple as a conversation or greeting has layers and nuances he knew not how to interpret on any given day. But that is not his concern, no. How strangely small Jane has made herself, how unsettled. That concerns him greatly.]

...So long as he has treated you kindly I cannot think why this might be complicated.

[ She's quiet at his reaction, just watching him quietly for a moment as if waiting to see if he'll say anything else. When it's clear that's his final word on the matter, she heaves a sigh and straightens, her smile small and a little awkward. ]

God. Sorry. I -- I forget you're not -- [ She shakes her head rapidly, with a short, disbelieving laugh. ] You're not the one that would have. Jealousy issues.

[ She takes the time to tug her new journal into her waistband, then reaches out to take one of his hands and press her lips to his knuckles. ]

Everything with Loki is complicated. You know that better than anyone. He and I have been friends for a long time. It's been ... strange would seriously understate the issue. Let's just say he's ... important to me, and he hasn't ... he hasn't not treated me kindly. [ She huffs another quiet laugh against his skin before lowering his hand, though she doesn't release it. ] He's. It's. Complicated!

I have no claim on you.

[not in such a way that would prevent her from spending her time otherwise. She is no subject of his, nor are they betrothed. That their company is shared and shared freely, that he has her affection and regard without it makes that attention all the sweeter.]

You are a woman clever enough to know how to keep her own council and more than able to define who it is you keep close in a way that will not risk your safety. What right do I have to feel jealousy?

[After being gone for so very long? None. None whatsoever. Though it does loosen some small knot of uncertainty in his chest when she takes his hand, he turns it to cradle her cheek.] Loki has ever been infuriating to those he keeps close, I know not if it is a test of their patience or a test of their loyalty, or fear. But that he has been here for you when I was not, that he is dear to you? Warms me in no small way. Complicated or no.

[ Opens her mouth.

Closes it. ]

God. Sometimes I forget how perfect you are until you remind me.

[ A beat. ]

Oh, my god, that was so corny.

[ She tilts her head just a little into his palm, sighing in a contented sort of way. ]

.... how do you feel about pizza?

[That has him cracking a low laugh, free hand sliding up to cradle Jane's other cheek. It's slow, as they all are until he is more certain, but he does not find it should be unwelcome that he lean in to press his lips to hers for a short moment.]

I find that I am coming to like corny. It suits you.

[He's lost for a moment in the texture of her hair and the warmth of her skin before he thinks to answer.]

Strongly in it's favor; it is a most pleasing dish and makes for an excellent repast.

01 ✴ written / action

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