Date: May 1st, 2001
Status: Private (Pollution and Loki)
Setting: Hospital
Summary: A visit to an old friend
It was late afternoon and the setting sun through the windows made deep run lights run across the floor. Pollution was faded out in the bright light, face tight and worried. The paper in his fist had a number on it and he gazed up and down the
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The knocking sound however he knew for sure was a request to come in. A visitor. Visitors, he remembered, were a nice thing. Except that he thought the last one might have scared the rat that lived under the bed. Still he wanted the visitor to come in. Now, what was the correct answer again?
"Hello?" Loki called out in old Norse*.
* It had finally somehow managed to stick in his brain that most people around here didn't speak Giant which was for some reason still a language his brain occasionally defaulted to.
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Something about the pale young man seemed familiar even though Loki was pretty sure he hadn't seen him in this room before. Well, as sure as he could be. He was aware that he tended to forget more than he remembered these days.
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He wasn't feeling entirely well, but then he couldn't remember ever doing so anyway and the last thing he wanted to do was kick out a visitor. They provided distraction from his problems and besides Loki was curious. Was this another old friend? He didn't appear to be a hospital employee at least.
"I'm fine," he lied. "Just some weird memory problem. I keep forgetting what exactly it is or how I got it, tough." He shrugged and put on a mock puzzled look. "I wonder why."
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"Humanity named me... Call me Poll... or White, if you'd like." He smiled, his head lolling to the side a little bit.
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The puddle of oil glittered prettily and Loki smiled. "I think I walked on a rainbow once. I remember how it felt under my feet, but I also remember that rainbows are only light. One can't walk on light, can one Polly?"
He wasn't sure why he'd turned Poll into Polly, but it felt right.
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"You can do a lot of things," he answer, running the tip of his shoe through the puddle. "You may have walked on a rainbow... I don't know, I couldn't tell you if it's possible."
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He didn't want to misplace that memory whether it was real or just a dream. Still somehow he just knew that was exactly what was going to happen.
"So you can't walk on rainbows," he concluded watching the movement of Poll's foot stir up the oil and scatter the rainbow. "But you create them and play with them. That's pretty."
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"I can create oil.." Pollution corrected vaguely, letting the puddle spread a little bit to case more rainbows. "The color is just attracted to it, that's all... I don't control them. "
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He watched the oil spread almost mesmerised by the shimmering. "I like your oil. It's pretty and I don't mind, if you can't control something. You're causing it anyway and it's beautiful."
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