[ fehu | learning to whistle again ]
((A: ACTION, early morning, limited to the house))
[Loki hadn't noticed that the pain was gone. He hadn't noticed that he was free to move. He was still asleep, but not for long.
Long years of imprisonment and the constant burning of poison-fumes around his eyes, nose and mouth had left him with a firmly embedded habit: do not open your eyes when you wake up. He was used to sleep being fitful at best and impossible at worst, so he was reluctant (to say the least) to wake up.
However -- that was sunlight. That was definitely sunlight turning the insides of his eyelids red, warming the blanket -- wait, blanket?
All this was unusual enough for Loki to risk cracking one eye open with a wince. When there was no pain, he opened both -- and realized the only thing keeping him in bed was a comforter and sheets. He sat up with a start, grabbing the fabric around him, looking to his side at -- well hello there, he didn't remember HER but he sure would like to. Right now, though, there were more pressing matters. Like who she was. Like why he'd woken up next to someone besides Sigyn's tattered, weeping figure. Why he wasn't in the cave. Where he was. What he was wearing. What was going on.
He practically stumbled out of the bed in his haste, unused to freedom of movement, backing away unsteadily.]
((B: ACTION, midmorning, around town))
[There's a man walking around town in his pajamas, apparently unconcerned. His hands were in the pockets of his stripy pants, and anyone looking at him would see him trying to whistle. He'd known how to whistle a long, long time ago, but after that incident with the awl it had been impossible. Now, though, he was trying to remember how to do it. You pursed your lips like so, right? Then blew?]
((C: ACTION, early evening, bar))
[Loki sat quietly at the bar, staring into a glass of unfamiliar alcohol. He wasn't entirely sure how to feel. His mind was buzzing. His chest felt like it would explode from all the roiling emotions inside it. Confusion. Relief. Anger. Resentment. Liberation. Imprisonment. Frustration. He had to sort it out, and seeing it reflected in a mug emptied of alcohol might help.]
[Loki hadn't noticed that the pain was gone. He hadn't noticed that he was free to move. He was still asleep, but not for long.
Long years of imprisonment and the constant burning of poison-fumes around his eyes, nose and mouth had left him with a firmly embedded habit: do not open your eyes when you wake up. He was used to sleep being fitful at best and impossible at worst, so he was reluctant (to say the least) to wake up.
However -- that was sunlight. That was definitely sunlight turning the insides of his eyelids red, warming the blanket -- wait, blanket?
All this was unusual enough for Loki to risk cracking one eye open with a wince. When there was no pain, he opened both -- and realized the only thing keeping him in bed was a comforter and sheets. He sat up with a start, grabbing the fabric around him, looking to his side at -- well hello there, he didn't remember HER but he sure would like to. Right now, though, there were more pressing matters. Like who she was. Like why he'd woken up next to someone besides Sigyn's tattered, weeping figure. Why he wasn't in the cave. Where he was. What he was wearing. What was going on.
He practically stumbled out of the bed in his haste, unused to freedom of movement, backing away unsteadily.]
((B: ACTION, midmorning, around town))
[There's a man walking around town in his pajamas, apparently unconcerned. His hands were in the pockets of his stripy pants, and anyone looking at him would see him trying to whistle. He'd known how to whistle a long, long time ago, but after that incident with the awl it had been impossible. Now, though, he was trying to remember how to do it. You pursed your lips like so, right? Then blew?]
((C: ACTION, early evening, bar))
[Loki sat quietly at the bar, staring into a glass of unfamiliar alcohol. He wasn't entirely sure how to feel. His mind was buzzing. His chest felt like it would explode from all the roiling emotions inside it. Confusion. Relief. Anger. Resentment. Liberation. Imprisonment. Frustration. He had to sort it out, and seeing it reflected in a mug emptied of alcohol might help.]