what if...I took a basic meme premise and made it fucky - for icasm

[favoriteanalyst]

[He keeps things from Loki, of course.

Not the important things, the pertinent things. Everyone has their secrets, and no one is ever truly an open book. (Regardless of how well he knows Loki. Extenuating circumstances.) And while Loki has slowly gotten to learn more about how the TVA works, he isn't privy to every detail. He's genuinely curious sometimes. And maliciously curious at other times. Mobius tries to strike a balance, let him know or learn on his own the things he can, steer clear of the things he shouldn't.

So while he's Mobius' partner, something of a junior agent in his own right with several, several caveats, he also doesn't need to know about every aspect of his job.

It's harder when it's another Loki variant that comes across his desk. Sylvie is a point of...contention? A special case, that's for certain. Dangerous, yes, and well worth his involvement, but...different. Not, as such, a case at all anymore, not really. But this one's fairly cut and dry. He frowns when he looks through the casefile. Because Loki shouldn't be anywhere near this one.

Variant L1952 took a different turn after being picked up by Thanos. A mix of biding his time too long, the effects of the mind stone, some powerful persuasion, and a budding army of zealots - this one turned from desperate survivalist wannabe conqueror into a fullblown child of the Mad Titan. It's not pretty, the way things devolve for the variant from there, at least as far into the branch as they've been able to track. The trickiest part is how this one seems to elude their immediate grasp. He's slippery and powerful and needs another set of eyes to make a plan of action to find him and take him in with as little injury to the hunters as possible. The scepter is a tremendous artifact with a stone of great ability if used right (and he can see it now, a trophy in Ravonna's office, and the thought hurts more than he thinks it should), and even when Gamora and Nebula aren't around, or Proxima Midnight and the rest, there's still a Chitauri army to contend with.

It's the kind of thing where he realizes he could use Loki's insight on this, too. Not just for it being a Loki variant - Mobius has seen many come and go without issue before. There's a combination of who it is, and the circumstances surrounding him, and not to mention Thanos in play, that makes him realize that a little help might be prudent for expediency's sake.

He doesn't want to let Loki know. It's...delicate. The kind of thing that his Loki is still relatively fresh from, that might still bleed as an open wound. But Loki's a nosy little shit, and he has noticed a new case that he has decidedly not been specifically on, so there are questions. And he hates this. But. But.

Stonyfaced, he hands Loki the file.] You're not gonna like it.

Comments

[favoriteanalyst]

[Mobius rubs a hand along his mouth and chin and still hates this whole idea that he's flirting with, but he worries that merely the presence of another Loki alone won't be quite enough. And it'd be better to give his a leg up on any ensuing fight.

There are a hundred million items of some power or another through all of time and space, of which the TVA has only a few in some storage or another, but some are definitely just too powerful to let anyone use in the field. And some are of a different kind of power that wouldn't necessarily help them here. He's not getting a stone, that's for certain. Though speaking of Jotunheim, he can think of one item...]

The Casket is sure to get his attention. Being one of the only people left who can even use it. Y'know, that thing's so powerful, it can even do a number on frost giants. Might not stop him in his tracks per se, but it won't do nothing.

I fucking love that icon, what a good expression

[icasm]

So. A prettier Loki, as you so eloquently put it, with the Casket, in Jotunheim.

[ It sounds like a board game or something. Loki, in the snow, with a knife is how the character died, your honor. Does he win, now? ]

Get him alone, without any of the others.

Beat him, don't lose, and then erase him from time. Have I missed anything?

[ So much room for this to go wrong, even Loki can see it, but he's not about to say as much. ]

[favoriteanalyst]

[Mobius holds up a hand.] The first thing I want to point out is that at no point did I ever suggest any of this was a good plan. [Because it's not. It's a desperate plan.]

Second, doesn't have to be on Jotunheim. Might be easier to corner him elsewhere. Casket's power doesn't hinge on it being on that world, even if it would be fitting. Just happens to be somewhere our guy might have even half of a feeling about. [Even if it's negative. Even if he perhaps lords over it all with a sneer, or with a too-wide smile.]

Third, yeah, in broad strokes, that's pretty much the idea. You'll have hunters to back you up, try and get close enough to collar him at least. Pruning won't do much until we get his fancy stick away from him. [No point sending someone to the end of time with a stone at all, even if it isn't space or reality. So either he gets disarmed in battle, in defeat, or they take it from him when they haul him into the TVA.]

I'm gonna say it again, Loki. You don't have to put yourself out there like this.

[icasm]

I'm sorry, [ no he's not, ] but is there such a thing as a good plan where incarnations of chaos are involved?

[ Is he wrong? No. He's not wrong. And he knows it, which tends to make him a bit of a smug bastard about things. ]

Mostly I'm thinking somewhere that there aren't a lot of people to get caught in the crossfire. [ Because there will be crossfire; this other Loki would not go out without a fight. ] But places where he has even half a feeling, that's a good start. The more possibility for emotional turmoil the better for us, I think.

[ Loki looks up at Mobius and shakes his head. ] I hear you. I'm still going to do it. [ He'll deal with the personal emotional repercussions later, in Mobius' room, where only the other man can see. ]

[favoriteanalyst]

[His lips purse. Loki is not wrong. He's not wrong about a lot of things. That's why he's the consultant/junior agent/expert/let's not think too hard about what he is to the TVA.]

Only other places of strong emotion that spring to mind are Earth, which we're definitely not doing, and Asgard, which--probably a bad idea. Jotunheim sucks, but it's got a much lower population density with more space to play hide and seek in. He and his buddies don't even pay Asgard a visit until-- [He shrugs.] Well, until there isn't actually a physical Asgard anymore. [There are the survivors to halve, apparently, for some reason, but that would be a much more dangerous place to pop in.]

I'll see what inert items we've got locked away. Can't imagine we don't have a Casket or two, otherwise we'd have to raid Odin's vault, and I do not wanna add any more complications to this.

[icasm]

[ Loki, personally, would rather not go to Asgard just to see it in the ruins of Hela and Surtur's fight, much less encounter his brother and yet a third version of himself dealing with the Mad Titan afterward. That much is probably clear to Mobius based on how drawn his expression becomes at the mere suggestion, combined with the fact that he doesn't say anything about it as an option. ]

Then it's Jotunheim. [ Loki states it as simply as possible. ] You'll have to dress warmly.

[ As appealing the thought of raiding Odin's vault is, Loki sets that aside for now. ] Do you know which Hunters we're bringing along?

[favoriteanalyst]

[Dryly:] I'll dust off my parka and mittens.

[The question strikes him as a little odd, though perhaps it's just that Loki wants to know if they're going to be the kind that has any idea what they're in store for. Or the kind that might follow the lead of a Loki variant. Or the kind that might casually oh so accidentally mistake the two for one another.] Got a couple in mind, why?

[icasm]

Do they match? Are they the same color as your jacket or something interesting, like cerulean and shades of green?

[ Loki.

He gives a little shrug. ] If it's anyone who's laughed at me to my face, I'm going to consider the possibility that they won't be on my side at any given point, but that's all, really.

[favoriteanalyst]

Tell you what, when we get there, if you wanna magic me up to look all fashionable, I'll even let you.

[Not that they should spend time on any frivolities like that, but that's not the point.]

I'm not gonna put anyone on this who's gonna turn around and jab you. Anyone who has even a chance of compromising the mission. I'll make sure they're here for the job, know how dangerous it is, and that you're taking point on this. I'll keep you safe on my end. You just make sure you keep yourself safe on yours.

I'll leave the specifics to you on this one. Point of entry, where to lure him out to, when to strike. If things go sideways, we retreat and find somewhen else to go for him. I trust you with this.

timeskips us a bit forward

[icasm]

Wonderful.

[ Is he very excited about that prospect? Yes, clearly. Is it a distraction from how it can all go spectacularly sideways, not to mention the emotional repercussions of encountering such a version of himself in the first place?

Definitely. But he thrives on distractions so it's fine. ]

Alright. [ Loki nods decisively. He can come up with all of that, honestly, and will not only discuss them with Mobius first but explain parts of his reasoning to the rest of the Hunters as they're gathered in a circle, going over the various aspects of the plan. Where they'll strike and how they'll lure L1952 out. He's very clear about everything they're to expect, based not only on the reports but on knowing himself.

The unease builds in the pit of his stomach as the TimeDoor slides open in front of them; he focuses instead on the feel of the Casket in his hands and imagines up a coat that materializes around Mobius' shoulders as soon as they're through.

He flashes a grin at the other man before nodding at everyone assembled. ] You know what to do. Let's go.

[favoriteanalyst]

[It's people Mobius trusts to stick to the job and not be overly bothered by the idea of Loki. And they're all hunters, rather than a hunter and a squad of minutemen--more seasoned and skilled in what they do rather than potential cannon fodder. A small enough team to not attract undue attention, to not get in the way.

Even through the doorway, there's a bite of bitter cold that seeps through. And after, it almost immediately settles into his bones. Loki's little flourish doesn't help, but, at least it's still warm enough, and he did promise to let Loki have his bit of fun. He runs gloved fingers down the material covering up his vest for a moment, quirking an eyebrow at his partner. Not what he would have chosen, but then, that's rather the point.

The door closes, and boots crunch under fresh snow. Loki gives the order, and Mobius thinks it suits him. Maybe the man will never make a king, but a position of some kind of power, commander of an army, right hand counsel, something of the sort, might still fit him well.

They move out to take up positions. In the distance, the sound of chaos. Yelling, fighting, the beginnings of a population rounded up and split into halves. Frost giants are not so easily rounded up, of course, and won't be making it easy, but weapons discharge also indicates that a fight might be more short-lived than they're used to. It leaves a vague staticy ionization in the air that makes the hairs on his arms stand on end even under several layers. Still, it's a whole planet, and all of the children are still going to have to split up to scour the land for as many stragglers as they can find.

And eventually, Loki. Or rather, the variant. L1952 is bereft of any kind of flowing cloak, but still clad in leathers, hair still slicked down if more ragged with time and effort. An unnatural blueness to his eyes, the same gleaming shade as the stone set in the scepter, and all the brighter for the darkness circling them. He smiles when he sees Loki, a sharp thing, too wide, as though with too many teeth, as though some invisible force pulls at his cheeks, with a curious cock of his head. If he's noticed anyone else, meant to be hidden just out of sight for now, then he hasn't indicated so.]

To call this unusual would be an understatement. [He gives a flourishing bow, and it's difficult to tell if it's a mockery or genuine, though he never once lets his eyes leave his doppelganger. Or the Casket in his hands.] But not wholly unwelcome. Although, if you are what I have to look forward to, I'm a touch underwhelmed.

[icasm]

[ Everything about him sets Loki on edge, from the smile to the way he moves to the way he speaks. His hindbrain is screeching at him to fucking back away slowly before, possibly, breaking out into a run but Loki has not yet become the sort of creature to run when he doesn't absolutely have to.

Maybe not even then. Despite when his instincts may tell him otherwise. ]

Is that the case? [ Is what he says instead, giving the Variant a bow that is both too tight to be polite and definitely in possession of a bit of a mockery. ] What would you have preferred? An army?

[ The Variant sneers only in tone; his smile has not moved. ] I would have preferred a real challenge.

[ And then he vanishes a quick as blinking. Loki, recognizing the little flare in the pit of his stomach as a panicked sort of fear, does the same.

Already, this is going off-script. ]

[favoriteanalyst]

Clever, [the voice echoes from everywhere and nowhere] to bring along something so intriguing. Tell me, does the Allfather know you're borrowing his toys?

[Mobius tries not to panic, but already this isn't going quite as planned, and they can't fight what they can't see. He sees one of the hunters check their pad, probably scanning for a temporal aura that doesn't match what they've got on file. It's a good call, and W-36 moves slowly, squinting around the glare of white. From somewhere Mobius can't see, T-90 makes a noise of warning, a brief raise of alarm, before a figure appears behind W-36.

The variant clicks his tongue and brings a knife swiftly across throat before a stick can be brought to bear.] You lot again. I grow weary of these distractions. [He sticks around long enough to be wary of his surroundings rather than simply try to pick the next one off, knowing there's another him around. But on sight alone, there's little way to immediately be certain if it's really the variant or an illusion left behind. Mobius knows better than to be a sitting duck at any rate and moves.

It's a near thing, a blast from the scepter hitting feet to his right and peppering him with ice and snow and rock. He doesn't know where it came from precisely, only from behind him somewhere.]

[icasm]

I didn't bother to ask permission, [ comes the voice of the Loki Mobius knows and loves, also echoing from everywhere and nowhere. ] Do we ever? Forgiveness is a much easier request, after all.

[ An illusion of Loki appears between Mobius and the following blast, laughing loudly and then dashing off again in the opposite direction; another hunter goes down, C-84 Loki thinks, but he can't focus on that right now. Instead, he appears at Mobius' left and immediately pulls his arm to get him behind an outcropping of rocks. ]

Ah, welcome back to the party, [ comes from behind Loki and he turns to slash a moment too late; there's a dagger high in his side before he hisses and manages to give equal footing to cut the Variant across the arm, causing him to drop the scepter for a brief moment. ]

[favoriteanalyst]

[He's thankful for the help, really, he is. It's just becoming clear that maybe a fight ostensibly between Lokis wasn't actually a great idea. Mobius is about to ask about the Casket, but the variant is there.]

Loki- [But job first, there's not much he'll be able to do if he stops to administer a little first aid, and when the scepter drops, Mobius dives for it, hoping getting it away will at least defang the fallen god somewhat.

His fingers brush gleaming metal before a wave of green magic slams into him, a concussive force flinging him away, skidding across the ground.]

If you stay out of my way, you may yet be graced by the touch of the stone. [It's a silken promise wrapped in a ragged tone, a touch of unhinged laughter broken by the continued fight. He flings more magic at Loki, as much distraction as genuine fight, and kicks the scepter back up into his hand in time to turn and intercept another hunter, pruning stick glowing and striking the scepter. He speaks, but to Loki, even as the variant seems to be having a good time as though merely sparring with the hunter, and a second that flanks him.]

This charade has been fun, but we both know you're not here to actually help these lowly creatures. You can join the cause and finally fulfill our glorious purpose.

[icasm]

[ It's not that Loki's forgotten the Casket, it's more that he's been trying to wait until the variant is either not close to any of the TVA or not expecting him to use it. Though he's starting to think maybe now is a better time than later, especially when the hunter who had come after him with the pruning stick ends up on the wrong end of the scepter. ]

I've had my fill of 'glorious purpose' recently, but thanks, [ is his response, because he knows addressing the rest of it — especially the idea of Mobius and the others as just 'lowly creatures' — is just going to leave the worst taste in his mouth.

There's no method of blocking the magic that's thrown at him, there's only dodging it, which has become more difficult the more Loki starts bleeding from the wounds the variant has inflicted. His magic keeps him going, but healing is not really his forte in the first place; field medicine is far from it.

The variant laughs and Loki gets himself in between Mobius and the variant, opening the Casket at the exact same moment as the L1952 turns with a sneer. It knocks him off his feet, at least, but when Loki moves to collar him he gets a facefull of magic blasted at him for his trouble. ]

[favoriteanalyst]

[It leaves both Lokis off their feet and struggling to regain breath and ground. L1952 lets out a sound that seems much more akin to an animal growl than anything else, skin blue in places where the power of the Casket washed over him, but when he speaks, it's with that same silky edge, the tatters of sanity blowing in the breeze.]

So you really do like these pathetic humans. How far you've fallen. It's sad, really. You could do so much more with your-

Shut up.

[The variant, up on one knee, blinks at Mobius, who himself has finally gotten back up. It's very Loki, the way he's meant to be, the way the variant tilts his head, eyebrows bobbing, at once genuinely confused and affronted.] I beg your pardon?

It's always talk talk talk with you Lokis. You know how much you could get done if you didn't have to turn everything into a speech? Maybe you'd have overthrown Thanos by now.

[The variant bristles, standing with a wary waver to his step.] How dare you. Father is-

[Mobius cuts him off as easily as he does to Loki, like the guy doesn't have some wicked power and doesn't scare him. He's sore but standing, moving not to Loki's side, but some distance apart from him.] He's a tyrant that had you beat senseless until you could hold your own in a fight and brainwashed you with a stone. Don't talk to me like you actually want to serve him. Of course you wanna take his power and put him in his place. So you can take your rightful place.

[It's a stalling tactic, and the variant seems to be aware of it, and yet backing down from the verbal challenge also seems difficult. He splits the difference with more magic, copies upon copies of himself appearing to disappear amongst, and all of them with bright bright blue eyes staring at Mobius like he's just been put at the very top of L1952's shit list.]

Am I getting warm?

[They all move, at slightly varying times, a disjointed pattern. A few slow steps, and a raised scepter, a jarring tilt of their heads, and a wide, wide smile. Their voices come all at once.]

You're about to get very, very cold.

[icasm]

[ The problem of a duplicating Loki is that it's difficult to figure out just which of them needs to be collared. Mobius put some distance between the two of them, which is appreciated... kind of... okay, actually, Loki understands the need for it from a combat perspective and hates it on a deep, visceral level otherwise. Hates that L1952 is focused on doing harm to Mobius yet is still scanning the area for him, hates that this has all gone so awry, so quickly, hates that he's even in this cursed realm, feeling sad and compassionate towards a people who abandoned him as an infant to the ice and the cold. He hates the Casket, hates this entire scenario, and mostly...

Mostly, he hates the variant.

At least this is a familiar emotion, unlike the concern broiling in the pit of his stomach as several of the duplicates start to close in on Mobius. There aren't any Hunters left, he realizes, and takes a quick breath in to try and stave off panic.

It's just the three of them. Well. And an army of duplicates, can't forget those, but if he knows himself, L1952 is going to try to sneak up on him while he's preoccupied worrying about the disaster rapidly unfolding and trying to sort out the real from the illusions.

As he realizes this, the hairs on the back of his neck begin to stand up on end.

Loki spins in place, clocking the variant in the face with a fist that is more run on instinct than it is a plan; part of him hopes that the pain is enough to set the illusions on the fritz for a moment, part of him realizes belatedly that any child of Thanos has long since developed the capacity to function through pain of all things. He can't see Mobius at this point, and that's... yeah. He's worried.

L1952 sneers and laughs. ] Worried about your little pet, are you? You should be. [ He draws breath to continue and Loki headbutts him, hard, before his hand comes up with the collar and snaps it around his neck. ]

[favoriteanalyst]

[When the collar snaps on, all the magic, and therefore the duplicates, vanish as though smoke on the breeze.

In the moments beforehand, however:

A veritable army of Lokis advancing on Mobius, wild glint of cobalt blue from the stone and its influence dancing around, a distracting display of power when each scepter fires off a bolt. Normal Loki magic involving this kind of magic tends to be for show only, frivolous, untouchable. But sometimes illusion and conjuration and offensive magic all rolled together is impossible to visually tell the difference between. Mobius ducks, rolls, and impacts dart around him. Not nearly so large as the real deal, fractions of a greater power, but still perfectly able to do him some harm. It's when he rises back to his knees, while Loki has his own variant to deal with, that he's caught off guard. There's one, suddenly, rather than an army, a very real-feeling hand at his throat. He can hear a mild scuffle from where his Loki is, but he only has eyes for the sleep- and sanity-deprived eyes before him. He can see, at this distance, the subtle veins of similar blue contracting around the eyes. There's just enough Loki in there that he can see the pain. That however unaffected L1952 wants to seem, Mobius had hit somewhere tender with his words. The pinch at the corners, a twitch to his lips even has he smiles triumphant.

Just enough that he has to try. There's nothing else for him to do. Mobius struggles for breath in the grip.]

It's okay. You don't have to--

[This counterpart to L1952 doesn't give him the chance.] No. I want to. [He lifts Mobius into the air with one hand, the effort just enough to make the vision shimmer green-gold and translucent, but the scepter is quite solid when it stabs into him, slipped under the padding of his vest. If Mobius is thankful for anything, through the pain he can't yell through for lack of breath, it's that it hasn't the true power of the stone in the illusion, something that cannot be duplicated, and therefore he's spared any residual effects.

And then the duplicate vanishes without a trace. Mobius drops to the ice and wheezes, crumpled in on himself.]

[icasm]

[ It's the sound of Mobius hitting the snowy ground that gets Loki's attention, whipping his head in that direction before he runs, leaving L1952 cursing and sputtering on the ground, slowing down only when he reaches Mobius' side. ]

Shit, shit, shit.

[ They're both bleeding, though Mobius' blood puts a lot more fear of things into Loki's heart than the sight of his own, there are no living Hunters left, and they have to get L1952 back to the TVA for processing. Also to get Mobius some medical attention, clearly. He puts a hand on Mobius' shoulder, and another at his side to see if he can't keep pressure on the wound. ]

Can you stand?

[favoriteanalyst]

[It's an odd sound he makes, a shivering groan, cold and warm and bleeding and off-kilter. It hurts, but mostly from the collision with the ground right now than the stabbing. That'll change soon enough, he's aware. He slides a hand down over Loki's, sucks in a shaky breath with the pressure.]

Gonna have to try. [Because if he doesn't give it a go now, the longer they're here, the less he'll be able to. He curses, squeezing his eyes shut.] Tempad's in my pocket. You got him? You okay? Tell me you're okay.

[icasm]

I got him. He's over there shrieking with a collar on.

I'm...

[ Is he okay? He takes a deep breath and something catches uncomfortably in his side; he's probably not okay, but he's not at the state that Mobius is in, mostly because he's not bleeding as profusely just yet. Loki recognizes he's probably being held together by no small amount of the magical equivalent of spit and spite right now, but. He doesn't like the implications of the noise Mobius just made. ]

I'll survive, [ is what he settles on, and that seems true enough ] but we need to get you and the Variant back to the TVA now. Here. [ He settles on his knees in front of Mobius, keeping his hand at his friend's side. ] Put your arms around my neck and I'll get us out of here.

[ Piggyback style? Apparently. But at least this way he can see where he's going and support Mobius' weight all at the same time. ]

[favoriteanalyst]

Loki, that's not-- [Hm. Breathing too hard, that hurts. Breathing normal, that's also starting to hurt.] Fuck, neither of us are okay, huh?

[If he were in better shape, he'd argue. But they're both bleeding and not getting any better, this timeline's not getting any more pruned, and the variant isn't getting any more arrested. He still makes a disgruntled sound and starts to reach for Loki, pulling away the hand over his. For both their sakes, he pulls out the tempad with the other hand, trying to dial up the doorway back with mostly just a thumb.

Hard enough as it is normally, but it wobbles and bounces in his hand. Oh. His hand is shaking.] Might be better if you go get help. Faster.

[icasm]

No, [ Comes out sharper than he intends but not sharper than he means, ] I am not leaving you behind here.

[ It's too cold, too dangerous. What if one of Thanos' brood finds him, or a Jotun? Without Loki, he'll have no chance of survival with either aggressor. No, he's don't leaving Mobius behind. Whatever happens will have to happen to both of them.

He notices Mobius' hand shaking and puts one of his behind the other man's fingers, to steady it. ] Can't you send out a distress signal, or something?

[favoriteanalyst]

[Yeah, should've seen that coming. What a disaster, even if they won, in the end. Too many dead. Too many injured. But at least it's (almost) over. Loki's sharpness barely penetrates, but something still working and on the job in the back of his mind notes it, earmarks it for later. He shakes his head and tries very hard not to start chattering his teeth.]

Communication through time...real tricky thing. Lose the signal easy, ends up somewhen else.

[Always easier to just have someone pop through a door to pass along a message. He manages a few more button presses, and the amber light of a door appears, and it feels pretty close to the most beautiful thing he's seen. (Well. Other than Loki, it's the most beautiful thing he's seen in the past hour, easy.) That task done, fuck it, he sets it in Loki's hand trying to steady his and reaches out his arms to get them around Loki as previously suggested. No more arguing, just get him home.]

Gonna bleed on you. Sorry. [The cold is creeping in more and more, and he can't tell if it's just lying on the cold Jotunheim ground, or the bloodloss, or both. Is this shock? He's trying very hard not to think about how far that tip went in like a hot knife through butter, what might have gotten sliced open in the process.] D-don't wanna hurt you more.