for halfassed

[dreamsofpoison]

Just how and why Loki was back on Earth was a mystery. There had been no communication from Thor any Asgardian representatives. It wasn't obvious that Loki was back, in fact, his presence could have gone unnoticed if not for, well, mischief.

He'd somehow taken something belonging to one Clint Barton. Something very dear to him. His bow. Said bow now sat on a mantel above the fireplace in his current residence. It was a stone and log cabin. Lodge would be a more appropriate description. Logs make up A frame structures to support the roof. They also provide an excellent place to suspend someone from. Which inevitably happened when Barton followed the little trail of bread crumbs to find his bow and ultimately, Loki.

He's suspended near the fireplace, which is lit. Turned so he can see his bow sitting there on the mantel. He's hung high enough his toes barely brush the ground and apparently Loki took great care in securing his wrists in a specific type of cuff. The kind that would ensure he could keep him there for quite some time without much damage to his hands or wrists. He was stripped of his weapons and all his clothes save for his pants. Hence why he choose the beam close to the fire. It was the dead of winter outside.

As for Loki himself, he stood by the window, watching the snow fall and waiting for the subtle signs his captive has awoken. He's far removed from the armor and leather of before. Instead he's in simple mortal clothes but they still had a certain Loki-esque flair to them.

Comments

[halfassed]

And Clint's just going to go ahead and eat at the table in the kitchen.

Because fuck you, Loki.

[dreamsofpoison]

Fuck you too, Clint.

Loki will eat eventually but after he's left the kitchen. Realizing he's staring at the food he tears his eyes away to look at something else. The fire is a good thing to stare at, right?

[halfassed]

"We're gonna work on this," says Clint, finally, standing in the doorway. "You want something, you ask for it. I get to decide whether or not I give it to you. Though maybe I should know better than to try to reason with you using my normal person logic."

[dreamsofpoison]

Predictably, Loki glares at him but relents. "I want something to eat," he says clearly. He doesn't betray any sign that he expects or doesn't expect to get what he wants.

[halfassed]

Clint disappears into the kitchen. Re-appears, and sends a box of graham crackers flying at him. "Heads-up."

[dreamsofpoison]

Loki may be cursed with a mortal form but his reflexes haven't diminished. He catches the box, frowns at it, "Something better than this?" he ventures.

He peers inside the box and inspects its contents. He is hungry enough he might eat them anyway. All of them. Or get himself something better which was his intention to begin with.

[halfassed]

"There's soup in the cabinet. It takes three minutes to cook. Directions on the can."

[dreamsofpoison]

Loki laughs at that. He tosses the box on the cushion next to him. "Your game bores me," he says with a sigh. "Find your key and leave."

[halfassed]

"Nope. I'm bringing you in." He glances to Loki. "If you want to reduce the three-day timespan, that's okay with me."

[dreamsofpoison]

Loki sighs and comments, "I had hoped for a longer wait before my execution." He idly picks at the discarded box then finally pulls a cracker out of it and eats.

[halfassed]

"You'll get ten, fifteen years. This is America, we don't shoot people. We squeeze them dry in the court system first."

He watches Loki, warily.

[dreamsofpoison]

Loki covers his mouth when he laughs this time, his mouth was full of cracker and certain manners never leave you. "War criminals get much heftier sentences, I do believe. International war criminals do tend to be executed from my understanding of your history," he elaborates.

"I imagine if Fury finds some use for me I will escape death to some forgotten hole," he adds bitterly.

[halfassed]

"Yeah, probably. Something like that."

He steps forward, takes a seat on the armrest of the couch where Loki's sitting. Whichever one is further from Loki. "What do you expect?" he asks. "You hurt us, we want to hurt you back."

[dreamsofpoison]

"Oh, I expect nothing less," he shoots back, irritated. He returns his attention to the crackers. Hunger overriding his need for speech for now. He has a few choice things he could say about his options but they sadly all highlight this as his best option.

[halfassed]

"Jesus, you are incapable."

He goes back into the kitchen, pours another can of soup into the pot he used. Flicks the burner back on.

[dreamsofpoison]

"What?"

It takes him a second to realize what he meant. Oh.

[halfassed]

Three minutes later, brings out a mug of hot tomato soup.

"The graham crackers were made by a guy who thought that people shouldn't have good flavors," he tells Loki. "That it would excite us too much. We use 'em to make marshmallow and chocolate sandwiches over campfires. Just to teach him a lesson. And yes, he has been dead for ... at least a century, I don't know."

[dreamsofpoison]

He hesitantly reaches out to take the cup, he mutters a thank you.

There is a slight smile at the strange story. "That improves the flavor?"

[halfassed]

"No. The graham crackers are just there so that the contraption doesn't become so sweet that you can't eat boatloads of them." A pause, then: "We call 'em s'mores. As in, give me s'more."

[dreamsofpoison]

Loki makes a thoughtful sound then turns his attention to drinking the soup.

After a long pause he asks, "Is there chocolate and marshmallows here?" Because Loki obviously wasn't the one to stock the place.

[halfassed]

"Where there are graham crackers to be found, there's always chocolate and marshmallows." Clint has absolute faith in this pronouncement. It's basically a law of nature. "But we need a big fire. And some sticks."

[dreamsofpoison]

The soup is finished and Loki first eyes the fireplace then the kitchen. "Will this fire do?" he asks, indicating the fireplace.

[halfassed]

"It's not traditional. But it'll do."

A few minutes later, Clint is demonstrating the proper way to toast a marshmallow, and the correct ratios of chocolate squares to graham cracker squares.

The hell is his life.

[dreamsofpoison]

Learning the finer points of proper smore construction has absolutely nothing to do with his long term goals. Well, it may, if it serves as another way to gain Barton's aid in the future.

Incidentally, they are much better than both the soup and crackers alone. When he is not consistently setting marshmallows on fire.

[halfassed]

"So this is what you want to do for three days. Act like my boyfriend?"