[ wunjo | joy and sorrow, despair and hope ]

[putmeinstitches]

[Backdated to Thursday morning. Loki's been tricked into drinking the hormone-free milk by his darling wife. Unfortunately, he grabbed the bottle of milk as he was leaving the house, and didn't realize a thing until he was halfway to work

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[dearmungandr]

[Approach! Jormungandr walks right up to Loki and squats down to look him in the eyes at his level, a questioning look on his face.]

[putmeinstitches]

[Oh look, it's his not-snakey son. Loki glances up, a listless expression in his eyes. He feels a great swell of sympathy for Jormungandr.]

We're more alike than we seem, aren't we? I pity you like I pity myself. We're both caught in the same cycle, unable to change our natures even if we tried. And now we're trapped here, robbed of revenge. Of purpose.

[dearmungandr]

[Father, you are being confusing. Granted, it's been a very long time since Jormungandr spent any time with you, but he distinctly remembers you never acting like this.

Regardless, what Loki says hits a little too close to home. Jormungandr frowns.]

[putmeinstitches]

Did you ever wish you could change what you were? Did being in the ocean seem unfair to you, or were you happy there?

[dearmungandr]

Yess.

[He says it simply. Every day he would wish he could change. Every day it seemed unfair. But it was also home. It was prison, but it was his prison. He loved it and he hated it.]

[putmeinstitches]

[And then, suddenly, Mayfield seems like the best possible place to be. A grin bursts across Loki's face as he gets to his feet.]

And look at you now!

[And he realizes something. Solemnly:]

Son, I've neglected my job as a father long enough. Follow me. There are things I ought to teach you.

[dearmungandr]

[What. The. Hel.

No seriously. What the fuck is going on here. Jormungandr stands as well, but he's entirely suspicious and really quite a bit confused. He'll follow, but as soon as he figures out what's going on he's going to try to fix it. Or something. Gods this is strange.]

[putmeinstitches]

Lesson number one: women.

[His tone of voice says, you're lucky to be learning from an expert like me.]

We'll work with your natural talents. Sure, women like to be charmed, and sweeping a girl off her feet is great, but they also like being listened to. Since you don't talk much, that's your best option.

[Loki's starting to feel nostalgic, though. Suddenly, he misses his wife -- his real one -- so much it almost hurts. He stops, and has to lean one hand against the wall.]

[dearmungandr]

[Oh gods no. No no no. If this seriously goes in the direction that Jormungandr is really hoping it does not go, then he might just walk off without warning. As it is, though, he's actually pretty concerned about his father. Something was going on, something was wrong, and Jormungandr wanted to find out what. He pauses when Loki stops, and contemplates whether or not he should put a hand on Loki's shoulder or something. That's compassion, right? Sympathy?

He doesn't, though. He just stands and watches, growing ever more concerned.]

[putmeinstitches]

[It's the mood swings again. Loki can't stop them. He can only wait for this to pass.

But fates, he misses Sigyn -- the way she was before he was locked up. And he misses Asgard. All Loki can see is the sunlight reflecting off of Gladsheim's golden roof and off of Sigyn's hair. He thinks about the thousand rooms of Bilskirnir, and of the way Sigyn looked when she smiled. He remembers Sif, too, and her cooking. He thinks of the deep, silent forests. He thinks of the snow and the ice, and of cold -- real cold, held at bay by roaring fires. He thinks of mead. He thinks of a carefree life not lived at the whims of powers he didn't even know, much less understand.

Loki takes a deep breath.]

Better do this...later.

[dearmungandr]

[Jormungandr hesitates, then puts his hand on Loki's shoulder. There's probably nothing he can do, and even if there were he's not sure he'd want to, but at least he can let Loki know he's not alone?

HOW DO SYMPATHY]