(Untitled)

[corroded_crown]

Date: April 17, 2006
Settling: Uriel's Room
Status: Semi-Public (Open to any who want to catch Pollution and Loki being very naughty.)
Summary: After a qick conversation in the Library, Pollution has been convinced to find out if his room is the only personal room that will tollerate his mess.

One quick trip down the hallway found Pollution and Loki

Comments

[leucemic_god]

Loki slipped in after Pollution and closed the door. It wouldn't do to be caught by the first person to pass by. They might not get enough time to make a proper mess then

[corroded_crown]

Ignoring Loki, Pollution moved to the sheets and touched them gently, watching greasy stains spread across the surface. The mattress sunk a little bit as the springs in it rusted and broke. Gasoline formed a puddle on the dresser and dripped slowly to the floor. Pollution smiled, distracted for a momeny by the play of colors in the puddle as the sunlight hit them.

[leucemic_god]

Loki looked through the tubes of paint until he did indeed find ... well, it was actually orange, but a very nice orange. It'd do for the rat's nose

[corroded_crown]

Pollution moved away from the bed and tilted his head at Loki, watching what he did. A black stain formed on the floor under his feet. "What are you doing?" he asked, tilting his head as he lookd at the rat smeared with different colors.

[leucemic_god]

"Painting." Loki beamed happily at Pollution. "It's fun."

It was also more difficult than he'd thought. Even the black couldn't completely hide the other colours and now there were smears of paint not only on the rat and the paint tubes, but also on the table and all the other sculptures he'd touched. Too late Loki remembered the existence of paint brushes. So that was what they were for!

Uriel had to have a paint brush somewhere, right? A quick search left evey nearby drawer and cupboard looking almost as colourful as Loki's hands. Or Loki's face, clothes and hair, though the god was blissfully unaware of the state of those.

[bipolar_uriel]

Uriel really hadn't expected to find anybody in his room when he returned. He definitely hadn't expected to find it so completely messed up.

The mess didn't bother him, really; that could always be cleaned. Even the paints didn't disturb him that much -- after all, he had a tendency of getting spots of paint all around when he painted himself.

But the rat. His dear little rat sculpture, the younger brother of Mr. Statue. His little shopping trolley with a nose.

And Loki had got paint all over it.

Uriel didn't shout or attack the god. He didn't even consider such things. Instead, he figured that the statue could deliver the punishment all by itself.

A wave of his hand, and the suddenly animated statue decided it wanted to take a bite of Loki's hand.

[leucemic_god]

"Ouch!" Loki yelped then beamed down at the rat. "Hey, it's alive!"

He expertly picked up the little rat-statue and cuddled it without giving it a chance for a second bite. The still wet oil paint left colourful smears on his pullover and cheeks, but Loki either didn't notice or didn't care. "How cute!"

[bipolar_uriel]

The idiotic god thought it was cute. Cute. And Uriel had thought that he was strange.

Well, that was enough fun for the vandal. Marching into the room, he took the rat from Loki's arms. "What on Earth do you think you are doing?" he snapped. "Unless you failed to notice, this is my room! These are my paints! And this," he pulled the now animated sculpture close to his chest, "this is my rat! Get out before I use my knives on you!"

[leucemic_god]

Uriel's outburst came as a surprise, though Loki hadn't expected him to be friendly. Nor were sudden outbursts of anger that were directed at him at all unusual.

So Loki just blinked and shrugged it off.

"But it's a cute rat. And painting it was fun. I like painting and rats!" he defended himself. "And I really hate mad not-gods."

[bipolar_uriel]

"Well, it's my rat!" Uriel shouted. "I don't care what else you do. Paint the whole room if you'd like. But leave my rat in peace!"

He didn't even know why he defended it so fiercely. After all, the person it symbolized had hurt him badly. However, it was precious to him, and he'd be damned if he let Loki abuse it in such a way.

The rat curled up in his arms and he miracled the paints off it. There was a small smear of black left on its little nose but he left it be for now. "Get out of my room. Now," he hissed, pointing at the door. "Before I do something I won't regret." He paid hardly any thought to Pollution's presence. Mess could always be cleared. The personification hadn't touched his rat and could thus be ignored.

[corroded_crown]

As Pollution was being ingored, he happily ingored the confrontation that was going on around him in favor of spreading a bit more litter around the room. He added a bit of nuclear waste to his mess on the floor, delighting in the little tingly feeling it was giving off. He supposed this was as close to the happy, floaty feeling that some of his human clients had claimed to experience on his drugs as he was going to get. That satisfied him.

[leucemic_god]

In the blink of an eye all of Loki's hard work was undone and the poor little rat was once again naked stone. Disappointment washed over Loki leaving him feeling pouty. He wasn't going to let a fucking, blood-brother stealing not-god get the better of him.

"You just said I could paint the room, if I liked," he stated. "Well, I like. I think I'll start by painting the bed."

He grabbed the next best paint tube, which happened to be light blue, and marched over to Uriel's bed.

[bipolar_uriel]

"No, you won't," Uriel said, still clutching the rat to his chest. "You are getting out of here. Right now." He walked to Loki, grasping on his arm.

"Will you leave now?" he asked angrily. "Or will I have to call Adam to get rid of you? And you," he added to Pollution, "you get out of here, too. I've nothing personal against you, and the mess doesn't really bother me, but this is my room. In theory, that means that I decide who enters it and when."

[leucemic_god]

"If you don't want people to walk in and out as they please, you should lock your room. That's what locks are for," Loki informed Uriel. "And I don't take orders from some fucked in the head idiot who isn't even a proper god."

He tore his arm out of Uriel's grip and turned to face the angel. Of course he knew that he'd probably lose, if he started another fight, but backing down and meekly walking out wasn't an option.

[bipolar_uriel]

Uriel glared at Loki. "Do you really want to fight with me again?" he asked. "Not even you can possibly be as stupid as to think you might win."

This time, his grip on Loki's wrist was stronger. He silently hoped whatever supernatural strength angels might have would surpass Loki's strength. Setting the rat on the nearest available surface, he then started the rather tiresome task of dragging Loki out of his room. He would get the god out, even if he had to fight for every inch.

[leucemic_god]

Ouch! That tight grip hurt.

Of course Uriel couldn't know about Loki's illness and how easily he bruised as a result and Loki wasn't about to tell him. Instead he ducked and tried to twist his arm away while simultaneously kicking the angel in the shin.

Damn, he probably had his daggers on him, too, while the closest thing to a weapon Loki was carrying was an old pocket knife.