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heroes are remembered for what they do not for what they are

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[ ♕ ] —— [ He did, however, return.

             Loki was not one to leave things unfinished.                                                     It left a sour taste in his mouth. ]

      ❝No more questions.❞

                       [ Cold, apathetic -- irreproachable. ]

The disappointment was palpable as Tony sat up in his bed.

Aren’t you supposed to take interest in the other person’s hobbies?

Well yes, if you’re in a relationship.

Boy, was he in deep.

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I am Iron Man

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.

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[ ♕ ] —— ❝Splendid. Do you have something to add -- something to complete the trick?❞

“Yes. Do it.”

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[ ♕ ] —— ❝Go away. I have no need of your nor do I have any semblance of interest in interacting.❞

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[ ♕ ] —— ❝Do you think the mortals will appreciate a shower of amphibians?❞

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[ ♕ ] —— [ ❝Impossible.❞

'Twas short. Non-negotiable. He wouldn't -- magic was his art. He wasn't about to let anyone take it away from him.

                                                                 He'd spent too many hours.

Loki disappeared. ]

Tony caught the change of expression, and had no doubt that the smile had been no trick of the light.

And he’d gotten another answer.

"Teach me."

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[ I'm so out of practise, but okay who wants a starter? ]

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[ ♕ ] —— [ ❝Magic.❞

Was that a smile? Oh, perhaps the little quirk of the lips wasn't a twitch of the facial muscles. Perhaps it meant something.

Certainly, Loki wasn't looking forward to their meetings as well? ]

Tony’s days seemed to have just become filler, time spent waiting for the inevitable visit. He whiled away a few hours working, going so far as to go into the office and do paperwork if only to occupy his hands.

His question had been answered, and so, Tony decided he would just have to ask more.

Night three of the second week, he remained cautious.

"How do you get past my security?"

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[ ♕ ] —— [ He was gone.

Come the next evening (night two now, of the second week which meant he had only five more) he was quicker. Much quicker.

No time was wasted and no breath spared but a single parting whisper, ❝The absinthe? Gone.❞

And with a swish of a coat, the only thing to imply his existence was the moved genius. ]

Tony had been still for a few minutes, head propped in his hands on the workbench. It had been a shock when nimble hands had lifted him into their respective arms, but Tony was determined to stay quiet. Surely, Loki had noticed that his eyes were open by now. No sense in pretending.

He simply reclined comfortably in the god’s arms, probably appearing rather regal in the way he lounged to the external viewer. Luckily, there were none.

When he was set down on his bed, he crossed his legs at the ankles and laced the fingers of both hands together in his lap.

"How was the absinthe?"

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[ ♕ ] ——❝You are no fun at all.❞

     ”I don’t doubt I should expect plenty from you. Just rest assured it’s nothing that’ll ever impress me.”

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[ ♕ ] —— [ His eyes slipped closed against his will and Loki hesitated for a long (too long) second before waving his hand and disappearing from view.

He spent the next day in isolation (just like the rest of his days) with his head tipped toward the sky and something akin to anger (was it anger? He had only known fire to be associated with rage) burning in his chest.

It surprised him more than anyone to see him return the next night and continue with the ritual. He only had a week more to go,after-all.

He resolved to keep his tongue still and to not speak a word at all. The second the man shifted or awoke, he would be gone.

Loki steeled himself and drifted over to the lab, pausing for a moment before deciding that the genius had more or less caught on by now.

The man would wait, of course.

Green eyes burning like emeralds a blaze, he quietly, mechanically, picked the engineer up and carted him off to his bedroom. He used his magic to cross the distance instead of walking -- it was faster that way.

Less contact.

It was best for the both of them. ]

An entire week of this passed before Tony caught him in the act. The first time, he’d been so sleepy he hadn’t even opened his eyes until he heard the quiet hiss that was the separation of spacetime as Loki disappeared.

The second time he’d woken when his back touched the covers of his bed. Large, brown eyes fluttered open, meeting a set of emerald green.

He was surprised, for a millionth of a second, to see some measure of softness in them.

And in the next millionth, he’d leaned up to capture Loki’s lips with his own in a soft but surface-level kiss.

He drew away after just a couple moments, opening his eyes to see the god again but remaining silent.

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[Sitting on the doorstep of 221B next to a single, blood red rose in a crystalline vase and a bottle of Absinthe Original. It's not propped open this way, though. Opposite the title page, where the author's signature resides just beneath where it's printed, there's a note written in familiar handwriting.]

I'm not sure you even live here anymore. Worth a shot.

Merry Christmas. 

[ ♕ ] —— [ He still does, but only he knows of the fact. Most other people know of the old man that now resides in the flat -- they do not know that the old man is just another on of his guises.

Something used to avoid any questions.

He thumbs the book carefully and sets it down in his shelf.

It will collect dust, which is a shame, but he cannot deny the way his gaze lingers at times.

He does not send anything back, it is not his way. He does not celebrate the blasted holiday nor is his sentimental enough to send a gift.

 He does, however, not throw it out. He keeps it, which is something for someone like him.

Loki drains the absinthe that night and he does so slowly. The alcohol is enough to burn away the magic that keeps him so unfortunately sober.

But it lasts for a night and tomorrow he is still keeping the rose alive and casting glances at the novel.

He still refrains from reciprocating, but if there are a few more bottles of alcohol in a certain tower, then, one can always chalk up their appearance to the owner's known alcoholism.

If the tower's owner seems to be making it to his bed more often in the coming weeks (exactly two and no more) even though he knows full well that he has fallen asleep in his laboratory -- well, why trust a hazy memory? ]

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Words have power.

They can create worlds of unimaginable magnificence, to bring to life beings that would never have walked among us had they not been immortalized in text — they can hurt as well as heal.

As human beings, we have been gifted the power of speech. We, with our fingers (through text and script) or our mouths, have the ability to convey what may not be able to be conveyed through actions.

Use this power.

Even if you are not the most eloquent of beings, you have a heart. Any words borne from the heart can hold within in them so much meaning that you would be surprised at their effect.

Some use this power to hurt, don’t be like them.

Even if you don’t know them, take the time to pop into someone’s askbox, whether under a grey guise or not, and tell them you love them. Tell them something nice, tell them something funny — tell them anything you want to, just let them know that they are loved and cared for by another.

It’s so important to tell and not just leave words that could have been…unsaid. Trust me, it’s a horrible feeling to lose a chance to tell them that you adore and love them, especially if you had so many chances to do so.

Remember, you have the power to uplift someone during a sad day. You can do so much, you just need to do it.

Will you waste this power?

;; w o r d s

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[ ♕ ] —— ❝Oh feel free; this mirror cannot stand you either                      It even cracked and shattered at first sight of you.❞ 

                       [ Oh, but do not be fooled, oh do not                          be fooled by his looks. Justifying such                          hatred for he who was essentially himself                          seemed to be but frivolous casuistry to any                          observer but it was more than a petty                           argument. Many would call him mad for                          arguing with himself, but he was, sadly,                          an inveterate criminal and insanity was no                          more than another of his crimes and sins. ]

[ ☨ ] —— ❝I do not believe that it should even be counted as that word, for it was simply a sliver of bark in the vast, empty area in the palm of thy hand.❞                                   [ Aye, a razor, the sound of the blades                                     running against the grain of stubble                                      — the grittiness gracing audible senses                                     that was what he had heard from the                                      other being before him. Alabaster flesh                                      wrinkled around the thin pillows of his                                      own lips, expression mocking the one                                      the deity before him bore. ]                           ❝Do you mind of I do not look at you, twin? It is bad luck to look into broken mirrors.❞

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[ ♕ ] —— [ He smiles neither kindly nor unkindly. It seemed to be a terrifying compromise of the two; a smile of the most depraved. It was almost unnerving to see those unscrupulous lips curved so finely into a subtle smirk.  ]

                   ❝I never said you were. Do cease to put words                       into my mouth. I am very capable, you will find,                       of producing my own.❞

o p e n

                 ”—I am no uncivilized barbarian, man, wretched though I may be; I do not go unclothed.”