( open ) surrender all your dreams to me tonight

[dothelokimotion]

Who: Loki Odinson dothelokimotion + You
What: Fancy Opening Night
When: May 11th
Where: The Opherium, Central City
Content Warnings: n/a


( i. grand opening — mingle and drinks )

[ welcome to the opherium. open to all metas, provided you’re up to the dress code. so make sure you’re dressed to the gills with your fanciest clothes or you might just be asked to leave. you’re ushered into a grand hall. there are appetizers like shrimp cocktails and little quiches placed on large tables for you to nibble on and champagne glasses being passed around by waiters. located in the middle is a large chocolate fountain for all you dessert lovers (loki. it’s for loki). grab yourself a drink and go hit up a familiar face. ]

( ii. dance dance )

[ and of course, once the mingling and networking is done, the staff come to clear the chairs away and leave plenty of room on the dance floor. the lights go dim, casting soft shadows against the wall. slow waltzes begin to filter through the hall as gently encouragement to go find a partner, maybe hold them close, enjoy a little . . . company and more.

or maybe you just want an excuse to step on someone’s foot. equally valid. in fact, there might be a little magic in the air that tugs you towards someone you want to be with . . . ]

( iii. star gazing )

[ the party is winding down. maybe you’re ready to go back. curl up on bed after a late night with drinks and dancing. or perhaps you’re feeling a touch of wistfulness, a need to seclude yourself after all that jazz. consider then, finding yourself a nice quiet corner on the upper levels of the theatre, where there are some nice balconies for you to collect yourself.

and there are always the stars to keep you company. ]

Comments

[rehandle]

[ A tilt of his chin, expression taking a lightly remonstrative turn even as the skim of fingertips sends a quick shiver of warmth out under the surface of his skin. Here it is, it's arrived, the time to gently kill the mood. ]

No. [ Which is completely irrelevant, when - ] She isn't foul and she wouldn't try.

[ A little glance up and away, squinting as he hums through a consideration designed to blunt the edge. ]

And her power is the ability to become and inflict translucence, so beyond attacking your vanity there's not a lot she could do against a sorcerer of your calibre.

[ikols]

[ The narrowing of Loki's gaze almost says Really, Stephen, this easily? but he slides his hand back down to rest on a shoulder instead. Good to know, even if Loki doesn't want to make him uncomfortable in front of an audience.

As he listens to him chatter aimlessly about his former dance-partner, Loki tilts his head and considers, through a warm haze of alcohol, how much better he gets along with this man instead of his Earth-616 counterpart. It isn't often Loki likes people, much less wants to be their friend, but he does with Stephen. He trusts him, which is a wholly new experience to have with a (somewhat) Sorcerer Supreme. He bats his lashes and nods along, taken more by the sway of their dance than agreement. ]

That was a compliment. [ The hand in Stephen's runs its thumb along a scar as Loki looks him in the eye, licking leftover champagne splashes off his lips. ] You said you knew it was me before you had to look. I can read your signature too, it's like sandalwood smoke and peppers.

[ A swirl of green brightens around their hands, slithering with a glimmer so as to let Stephen soak up Loki's idle magic, running it along the back of his scarred hand and over his palm.

He leans in, wrinkling his nose playfully. ]

What do I feel like?

[ Billy always gets shivers; Loki hasn't asked anyone else. ]

[rehandle]

[ It wasn't the touch so much as the words that caused the shift (should've been the touch, really, but amidst merriment and closeness it's easy to let yourself go a little further than you should), so when Loki retreats to his shoulder with a look to match, Stephen blinks recognition - clouds passing briefly over the sun - then takes it in stride.

And a second later Loki's busy being arguably more intimate. Being known on a mystical level and the trailing of a scar are followed in short order by the creeping curl of magic that have Stephen pulling in a steadying breath and lapsing into quiet. The question is allowed to pass unanswered for a few long moments, his attention falling into the feeling of that magic swirling about his hand.

It's rare to get to be this casually in touch with another's magic. Something worth sitting in for as long as he's allowing himself to be indulgent. ]

... A pain in the ass.

[ Raised brows and a straight face are betrayed quickly by the quirk of a wry smile and wrinkling around the eyes. The next second, with a little exertion, he offers up some ambient magic of his own.

The channelling spell he'd demonstrated under a tree in the rain, most often used to ease his ruined fingers into shapes they might not otherwise take so easily, interacts as seamlessly and thoughtlessly with his own nervous system as breathing. He engages and lets it slip beyond the bounds of his own skin. Nothing so focused as he usually requires, just a little awakening of nerves, magic setting cells abuzz, the effect little more than a pleasant hum between palms. A peace offering all the same.

Loki's not going to get pretty words out of him, but he can give this much. ]

[ikols]

[ He pictures a meadow of his own power with nettles hidden here and there as surprise stings, and a hot sun beating down on it all when he feels Stephen's magic intertwining with his own. It's powerful stuff, making Loki swallow as he feels lime-green whisper through red-orange, and he sends a couple of metaphorical nettles over to meet Stephen's fingertips, keeping him alert.

The smirk he receives is reassuring, relaxed as they dance: the words don't matter when he can feel acceptance and approval (and then, absently, he registers they aren't dancing as fast anymore, too focused on each other). ]

I was right about the peppers. [ Adopting a thoughtful expression, he hums for show and rubs his tongue against the top of his mouth as though experiencing a simple aftertaste. ] A spicy wine, perhaps. That sounds about right for you.

[rehandle]

Is that right? [ 'A spicy wine' is a Stephen Strange flavour that just makes sense? Well, the more you know. He's busy enough encountering those small surprise jolts, a twitch of brow and smile with each one, enjoying the subtle interplay of magic as language in its own meandering conversation.

In the isolation of their met palms he opens himself up for magic to pass back the way it's come, ready to swallow up any next sparks Loki sends his way to see if he can bend that idle sharing of magic to his will and send it right back the same way he draws from dimensions, curious to see how or if his usual process of collecting and reshaping will work with magic stolen from the personal divine.

Partly it's an experiment. Mostly, he's having fun. ]

Do elaborate.

[ Whatever are you implying? (He doesn't disagree). ]

[ikols]

[ With Loki so pleasantly courted on a stomach full of champagne, initial resistance takes only a moment to become completely pliant to Stephen's wishes. The chaos magic swells eagerly, reality warping however Stephen wants with the potential of reshaping or reinventing whatever it touches, the fast heartbeat of the God of Lies slowing to match Stephen's as Loki's power throbs in the hand of another, a cool smooth palm held in scars. A few prickles spike to ensure attention is being paid, verdant sparkles racing through their hands to imbue the other man with energy.

Loki blinks slowly, letting Stephen have access to the deep, deep well of his enchantments. His eyelids are halfway closed and he wears a similar smirk, a rosy flush high on pale cheeks. ]

You have many flavours.

[rehandle]

[ Oh. Oh. Stephen's breath stutters and catches as the wellspring of Loki's magic opens up to him, fingers flexing briefly with surprise before squeezing tight, holding firmer than before. The strength is enough to make his own hand ache in a way he pays absolutely no mind, too busy recognising the breadth of possibilities eagerly awaiting his direction, the power welcoming him, yielding to him. It's one thing to know of it, to understand it conceptually and to sense it ambiently... another altogether to be greeted by it and handed the reins to infinity.

Dangerous, he realises, without too much alarm. Dangerous in the way it was dangerous for him to be offered everything by a Loki steered about by the spell of another equally stubborn god. Only they're both in their right minds now, if a little shy of sober, and more than capable of making their own choices and knowing their own limits.

A spike and there comes the shiver. A little spasm of the hand clasping Loki's and a shudder of breath as he feels himself rejuvenated. His eyes drop closed, the space between his brows crinkling ever so slightly, and it's all the better to luxuriate for a few suspended moments in the feeling of Loki's magic in the literal palm of his hand, boundless and limber and awaiting choreography...

Then, with a heavy exertion of will, Stephen takes gentle hold of what's been made briefly his to direct and turns it back on itself, guides it home. Past the limits of himself it goes, a guest waved off at the door at the end of a pleasant evening, and the boundary between god and man is reasserted. Their mingled magicks are once again nothing more or less than a meadow in the midday sun.

Stephen lets his held breath go, a quiet, trembling stream, and when he's steady and his lungs are empty he lifts his rueful gaze to catch Loki's eye. They're standing still, he's unsurprised to learn. Couples breeze past them as the music soars. ]

That's probably enough of a taste test for one day.

[ Wry with residual warmth. Better he not leave himself free to run the risk of greed. ]

[ikols]

[ Attentive to every twitch of a brow of flex of fingers, at some point his other arm winds around Stephen's waist to ensure he isn't in any danger of swooning (it's possible). It feels like having a fishing hook attached to his veins snagged in someone else's palm, carefully navigated so that Loki doesn't overload him through their connection and Stephen doesn't draw on too much or lose his focus for more than a handful of moments. When green magic recedes it does so unobtrusively without a single sting, soft and mallow until only the softest wisps still drift over Stephen's hand in a faded tide.

When their gaze meets he nods in understanding. ]

Good man. Now, [ his horns vanish with a glimmer, ] don't let me fall over in front of all these people.

[ Black hair pillows on Stephen's shoulder and Loki starts a slow sway to the music, both of them an abandoned island in the eye of a waltzing storm. ]

Five more minutes.

[ It's a safe space and he's comfy. ]

[rehandle]

[ And there he goes, from conduit to glorified cushion. Stephen's got enough of his wherewithal back to snort a laugh. It falls short of derisive. Maybe that's something to do with the way the hand still settled over Loki's shoulderblade in loose approximation of their hold smoothes a little further across his upper back, spread out like a bridge over his spine. ]

Fine.

[ Said with an inflection that implies he's humouring him, but he doesn't seem put out in the slightest. ]

[ikols]

[ The whirling bodies and soaring strings lull him against Stephen in an impromptu nap, whether as a result of letting himself be touched so deeply on a magical level or just tipsy (or both) he doesn't care to decide which is the culprit. Loki feels the hand on his back and he has Stephen's neck warm on his nose when he gives a nuzzle by way of a Thank you.

As he banks his power and refreshes himself, it only takes a couple of minutes, not even five, to wrap his head around the idea of walking away with most of his faculties intact. When he starts to stir, he makes sure to lean in and cheekily murmur at the corner of Stephen's lips, ]

Hope it was good for you too.

[ before he disentangles himself with greater ease than might be guessed, and walks backward into the crowd with mirthful green eyes smiling at a certain sorcerer. ]