i won't let this break me, even when the world is shaking (♫)
[ Daisy really misses the Internet. And smartphones. And Postmates. She misses being in her own timeline. She misses her team. She misses being in a world where she isn't struggling just to survive every damn day. But here she is, truly alone for the first time in years.
She can't say she's missed that very much.
It was supposed to be a routine mission, so simple she'd gone on her own and didn't even take her Quake suit. She was just Daisy Johnson, agent of SHIELD, investigating some weirdness in a random town in the Middle of Nowhere, Europe. Everyone expected it to be so normal that she didn't even take a quinjet there. But when her GPS died and her cell lost signal, things became a little less normal.
She'd pulled off at the side of the road trying to get a signal when she felt it: a strange vibration resonating in the distance. Being an exceptionally smart woman, she'd left the car behind and gone to have a look. One alien monolith tucked away in a cave later, she'd woken up in a nightmare. An empty New York City loomed all around her, the silence almost deafening in a city that was supposed to be full of life.
It had taken a while for her to accept it. Days of searching for signs of SHIELD or her friends, or hell, just anyone who might be able to give her some answers. There were signs of survivors here and there, though survivors of what she couldn't be sure, and trying to track them down had led her straight to the things that must have caused the destruction all around her. And in any other situation, she would have welcomed the chance to take down an enemy; a good fight is the best form of therapy she knows. But now, in this place where she's on her own?
She runs. She keeps running. For weeks, she runs and struggles and searches for a way home. Today is no different. Finding food is the priority, and warmer clothes if she comes across them. The nights are getting colder and it doesn't seem like this city has had electricity in a long time. ]
[ While it had been nearly two years since Earth had fallen to the invasion of the Direwraiths, that was not where the infiltration of the Nine Realms had started. Asgard had lost contact with Vanaheim and Nidavellir first, then Alfheim. Most of the others had stood little chance after that. The parasitic nature of the Direwraiths, their capability to absorb the abilities of those they felled, and the strange, dark magic which even transformed those infected into Direwraiths themselves... they had come over the Nine Realms like a poisoned wave.
With even the might of Asgard's army falling before them, Earth had been in no way prepared for the onslaught. It wasn't like it had been with the Chitauri (he felt a cold burn of anger in remembrance, though it quickly banked) with foot soldiers and explosions and the heroic few rising up. This had been methodical, relentless, nondiscriminatory; humanity hadn't stood a chance.
That wasn't to say they didn't try. The Avengers, SHIELD, even splinter cells of HYDRA who'd decided that as much as SHIELD needed to burn, it was better than the alien-driven apocalypse. Governments and military had given their all, and more than a few Enhanced individuals had come out of hiding to try and save the planet.
It hadn't been enough. One by one they fell, and each defeat simply empowered the Direwraiths even more. They targeted everything, from power grids to water supplies, to the entire food supply chain. They were well-practiced in how to bring any civilization to its knees.
Now they prowled the world, searching for survivors and consuming the energy of the planet itself. More of them were doing the same on the other worlds of the Nine Realms. They hunted, solo or in packs, rooting out any survivors with a vicious efficiency.
Loki had slipped through one of the hidden passages to Earth in the last moments as Asgard fell. Nothing he could have done there would have changed anything, and if he were alive, there was still a chance that he could find a way to stop them. Two years was barely the blink of an eye to an Asgardian, yet it felt like a century had passed. The Direwraiths could sense his magic, so he was forced to make use of it with utmost scarcity.
The shells of former metropolises were both a blessing and a curse to be in. While there were more Direwraiths on the prowl in what had once been such a high density area, the residual esoteric energies of the place helped mask his own. While he would have preferred to be somewhere far from former civilization, that would have made his magical signature stand out like a beacon.
At the moment, he was rifling through a stock room of a small restaurant in Hell's Kitchen. Everything had long been looted, of course, but perhaps something had been overlooked. Always thin, his frame has become gaunt, and his usual outfit is faded and rough. A noise seems too loud in the otherwise stillness of the dead city, and he freezes, drawing one of his knives from its sheath and listening hard. ]
[ Finding the destruction that used to be the city's SHIELD headquarters had been nothing short of devastating for her. Hours were wasted climbing through rubble and across precarious crumbling floors in search of... anything. Provisions, weapons, information. Bodies. There was none of the last, thank goodness, but everything else seemed to be long since picked over. That was how she'd learned not to stay too long in one place that wasn't properly secured and hidden — she'd nearly been caught by one of those things that day.
She'd cried until dawn and not again since. Tears won't solve anything, and if she starts again, she may never stop.
Tightening her pack against her back, she moves quickly and quietly down an alley, heading for a row of restaurants she hasn't checked yet. It's further than she's gone from her home base in days, but times are getting desperate. The pack she'd had with her when she'd come through had the usual SHIELD kit for missions, including a few not completely disgusting MREs shoved at the bottom. She's done her best to make those stretch with a few canned goods she'd found but everything's gone now.
The first back door she tries is unlocked, which doesn't bode well for her prospects, but she still slips inside, moving cautiously through the space. Checking the few storage shelves in the kitchen, she jumps as a rat the size of a housecat skitters by, her bag catching the edge of a pan and causing it to tip and then clatter against the metal tabletop. ]
Shit.
[ Her muttered curse slips out as she creeps back to the door, cracking it enough to peer out. The sound shouldn't have carried enough to draw attention from anything roaming nearby, but you can't be too careful when it's the end of the world. ]
[ For a split second he thought that one of the Direwraiths had tracked him into the area. Despite the implication of their name, they were very solid and they didn't need to be silent, especially not at this stage of their conquest. But the very telling curse that immediately followed confirmed that this was no alien predator. Still, his grip on the knife hilt doesn't loosen.
The stock room had been down in what had at one time been the building's cellar, converted at some point in the past to make the most of the precious small amount of physical real estate on the typical New York lot. Loki crouched at the top of the narrow staircase, hidden only by the rickety basement door, small bag of scavenged provisions all but forgotten at his feet. He heard the back door crack open as the person checked the alleyway.
If they left, Loki would be relieved. If they didn't and tried to check the basement, well... he wasn't adverse to killing someone in the name of his own preservation. Collateral damage. ]
[ When it becomes clear there's nothing speeding her way, Daisy relaxes and steps back from the door. Turning, she moves across the kitchen, peering out into the restaurant at dusty tables and overturned chairs. There won't be anything to find out there, so she doesn't bother checking. That leaves the storage room, which is either up or down, depending on where the last door leads.
Her boots are quiet thuds across the tiled floor as she walks toward it, but as she reaches out a hand, she freezes. There's someone on the other side. In the desolate city, her senses have become more attuned to the subtle vibrations of everything around her, and what is behind that door is alive but smaller than those things. So, person. Whether they're friend or foe will have to be seen. ]
I know you're back there. I'm not going to hurt you, so you can come out.
[ She keeps her voice quiet, knowing it'll carry in this oppressive silence. It doesn't even occur to her to walk away, not risk her own safety, and leave whoever this is to their own devices. It's another survivor, that's all that matters. ]
[ Perhaps it is the tone of coaxing which ignites his ire, or perhaps nothing more than frayed nerves but Loki emerges from behind the door with uncanny speed, shoving Daisy back into the brick wall with one hand clapped over her mouth and one resting the flat of his blade against her neck. His eyes are bright, a little wild, and his voice a low hiss. ]
I have nothing to fear from a humans in anything save their stupidity, as if this city is not treacherous enough without you fumbling noisily in here and ringing the proverbial dinner bell for those things.
[ For a moment, Daisy's sure she's dreaming. She's back in the basement of the old speakeasy, getting her maximum three hours of sleep, and she's dreaming about finding survivors. Her dreams never stay pleasant, they always morph into some twisted nightmare, so of course one of her enemies would show up to torment her in this hellscape.
But it's not a dream. She can feel his unique vibration radiating from the hand over her mouth and the cold of the blade against her throat. For just a second, she's frozen, staring with wide, disbelieving eyes. And then she acts.
Without any care for the noise it would cause or the attention it might draw, she lifts a hand between them and shoves him away with a quake, sending him flying across the room. There are a thousand things she can think to say, but for now, she's silent, just watching him with anger and hatred in her eyes.
[ Loki really should stop preemptively deciding that every mortal was powerless, but today was not the day said lesson took hold. The quake punches him back with the force of a rampaging bilgesnipe, and in the small confines of the kitchen, reverberates the old metal cabinets with a cacophonous racket. Almost immediately the chorus of Direwraith howls break the silence of Hell's Kitchen, and Loki — almost impossibly — grows even more pale. ]
You utter imbecile!
[ He sounds faintly strangled, and it has nothing to do with having just been thrown into a wall with enough force to crater it slightly. He opens his hand and the knife, which had been knocked from his hand when the quake had struck him, flew back to land in his grip. He takes an angry step forward; Daisy is between him and the exit. ]
[ It's been years since Daisy last felt this kind of searing hatred for another person. Not since Nathan Malick has she been overcome by the urge to see someone utterly destroyed. So when she hears those terrifying howls, she doesn't even blink.
Let them come. If she's going to die in this place, taking him with her will be worth it. ]
I don't think so.
[ Her voice is like ice cold steel, determined and unbreakable. With a hand still raised to attack again if necessary, she keeps her feet firmly planted, ready for whatever trick he might try to play to weasel his way out of this. ]
I'd rather watch you be torn apart, or whatever it is those things do to their prey.
[ It's both an admission and an epithet all at once. He will not plead, he will not, he is the rightful king of Asgard and Jotunheim, a god among mortals, and he will not debase himself with anything so servile— ]
I will barter you safe egress from the city and whatever you wish to take of supply.
[ The howls are closing in. Loki's teeth grit so hard that he can feel them cracking in the back of his skull; the tip of his dagger lowers slightly, the last word burning out of him like acid, like bile. ]
[ Something deep inside Daisy flinches as those howls draw closer, primal instinct urging her to run for her life. But what kind of life would she be running to? SHIELD is gone, her friends are dead, and she isn't a scientist, there's no way for her to find the portal back home. All that awaits her is starvation, grief, and loneliness. ]
You didn't show mercy to Phil Coulson when you stabbed him through the heart. Why should I show it to you now?
[ Because you're a good person. It might as well be Coulson whispering in her ear, reminding her that she isn't a killer. Daisy Johnson is a hero but she's choosing not to be. Dying a villain doesn't seem so bad when there's no one around to be disappointed in her. ]
[ The snarl he gives her, more feral than he would have been proud to admit to, doesn't disguise the very real fear he has. Not of Daisy, but of the Direwraiths. That she evidently knows him — and Coulson, for the little he's thought of that man since — and is willing to die to make sure those creatures get him is reason enough to fear ]
Fine. Fine! Geas-bound, I will give you one oath of mine. Anything you want in my power to grant.
[ The dagger lifts again, not to threaten Daisy this time, but to lay alongside his own neck. ]
[ Consume. That word strikes her as extremely specific, reminding her there are things she still doesn't understand about this world and what's happened here. Pieces are beginning to connect in the puzzle and she doesn't like the picture forming. Her hesitation shows through her hatred, her eyes falling down to the knife at his throat, and she finally gives her own feral growl of an answer. ]
Fine.
[ And she hates it. She hates that she's agreeing to this. But if there's a chance of him being able to help her... Or if those things getting hold of him would make things worse for whatever survivors might still be out there... As much as she despises everything about this situation, she has to make this play.
The only solace comes with the knowledge that when this is all through, she can kill him herself. So she lowers her hand and turns to head for the door as those howls sound from down the block. ]
[ As soon as she agrees, Loki can feel the geas magic lock into place. It was a desperate ploy, and he highly doubts that this woman actually knows the depth of what she just agreed to (hopefully he can keep it that way) but that will be a problem for later. Assuming they're still alive for a later.
Consume had not been an idle choice of wording, and his stated intention to make sure the Direwraiths couldn't take him was no theatrical bluff.
Hell's Kitchen is a brick and mortar maze of alleyways and narrow clefts between buildings, many of them blessedly narrow enough that the Direwraiths could not fit down them. Insectoid-like claws gouge the concrete as the creatures tear up and down the surrounding streets, hunting them. With such animalistic behaviour, it was sometimes easy to forget that they were a very advanced, intelligent species and not merely beasts. He almost wasn't sure which was worse, but he keeps his dagger close at hand. ]
[ Magic isn't really her forte. One rough year of trying to keep the Darkhold from destroying the world does not an expert make. But despite her lack of experience, she's fairly certain that whatever he's offering is some kind of big deal. He'd been desperate, fear creeping through his arrogant superiority, so it was more than just words. She can pry the exact details of it from him later when they're not facing imminent death.
Once they're outside, she can hear the creatures scrambling to find a way back to them, and it's only a matter of time before they succeed. Daisy looks in every direction, noting exits and laying them over possible routes in her mind. She'd grown up in Hell's Kitchen, it was a home she'd never really wanted to come back to, but it's not going to be the one she dies in. Not today. Not now that she might have a sliver of hope. ]
I might know a way out unless you've got some ideas to share.
[ Were it a less dire situation, the comically consternated expression Loki flashed her might have been funny. As it was he seemed like he was managing to rein in a caustic response only because the threat of something greater than the loss of her cooperation was howling ever nearer. ]
Fair and just democracy can wait, you—
[ He tastes blood from the inside of his bitten cheek. ]
Somewhere with a minimum of any type of power sources, they're drawn to it. Hurry.
[ Being fair hadn't exactly been her idea. For all she knows, he could have been in the city for two hours or two years, and if the latter, he might know more than she does about how to escape. But she does have to acknowledge that he's precariously close to losing his shit from fear, whereas she's been trained to handle herself in stressful situations. This is where she excels. ]
Stay behind me, and be ready to run.
[ Walking briskly to one of those narrow alleys, she sees one of those things dart past the end, searching for a wider opening to get in. It's now or never. Focusing on the vibrations around and within her, she pulls her power together and suddenly kneels to slam her left palm against the concrete. A surge of vibrational energy channels through the ground at her feet and down that alley, the buildings on either side shaking from the energy. It flows out to the street and spreads to either side, her expression tight as she strains to direct the power while those things cause chaos all around. A few seconds more and the ground cracks, a line arcing down the alley and out onto the street, where the concrete splinters, breaks, and then explodes outward as that energy is released. The howls take on a very different tone as much of the street collapses into the tunnel below, trapping some of the creatures and luring others toward it.
She staggers to her feet, pain warring with determination on her face, and holds her left arm close to her body. Looking back at him, she offers a prompt he probably doesn't need. ]
[ The chaos works and the Direwraiths are thrown into a tumult, snarling and snapping their jaws at one another as they try to reorganize. Their howls change in tone, no longer hunting cries but actively communicating positions and information to one another.
Loki splays his hand out, a faint light beaming from his fingertips and suddenly he and Daisy are surrounded by copies of themselves. Then the copies go darting off in every direction, scrambling over the collapsed debris as if searching for a place to hide. It was a tenuous illusion, but even if it buys them just a few extra moments, that could be all the difference.
Her power isn't familiar to him, although it is reminiscent of the way the stone-shapers of Nidavellir control the earth. Loki eyes the way she clutches her arm and surmises another show of power like that isn't forthcoming soon. ]
They'll hunt until they lose our trace. Where is the nearest hospital? The ámáttugr in one will be able to mask us for a while.
[ His actually kind of helpful display of magic is unexpected, to say the least. Even though he's clearly desperate to survive, she wouldn't have thought he'd actually help in their escape now that he's seen she's not some powerless human. But his question and the reasoning for it make her frown in confusion. ]
The what?
[ Maybe it's a magic thing, or some old Norse word that's common for Asgardians. Languages also aren't her thing, but she doesn't wait to find out the answer. She breaks into a run, heading down one of those alleyways and darting across a main street to duck into another. From there, they follow a spiderweb of narrow spaces between buildings and side streets until they've put more distance between them and those things. It's only a few blocks but it feels like hours pass before they reach Mount Sinai West. ]
[ Once they've gotten inside and barred the door, Loki reaches out and touches the dingy paint of the nearest wall and concentrates for a moment, before he nods once. ]
Ámáttugr. The mien of a place creates points of saturation which can confuse the Direwraiths. They cannot "see" through it to hunt as easily. A place like a hospital will have had no shortage of intense emotional discharge, and that lingers long after it is no longer in use.
[ Or if there was simply no one left alive to use it. ]
[ Direwraiths. So those things have a name. She files it away along with the information about why the hospital is a good hiding place, wondering what else he knows that might actually prove useful. Part of her insists it's crazy to trust him even this much, but what choice does she really have? ]
Okay, we stay here for a bit then. [ She takes a deep breath, resigned to not being able to rest just yet. ] Come on, this isn't the only exit. We should secure the others before finding somewhere to hole up.
[ Somewhere with more than one door in case they have to make another quick escape. ]
[ Between the two of them, they're able to get an area of the main floor secured. With so many departments and entrances, it would be too much to try and barricade the entire building, but one wing was certainly doable. Only once the last vulnerable exit had been addressed — Loki had bent a cuff crutch barehanded into a makeshift bolt for the double doors — did he drop wearily into the nearest chair. Norns, but this is not how he'd expected today to go.
He eyes her injury for a moment before he reahced for his bag — only to curse loudly when he realized that it was not here. His mind flashed back to being thrown into the wall in the restaurant kitchen, and in the chaos that had followed, he hadn't remembered to pick it back up. All his supplies, meager though they'd been, lost!
Loki wants to be furious but mostly he's just exhausted. All of that work and it had been for naught; it could be days before the Direwraiths gave up scouring that area for traces of their quarry.
Apropos of apparently nothing, Loki utters a fitful laugh. If he doesn't laugh, he surely will scream. ]
I'll have you know you spectacularly ruined my evening.
[ Working with her enemy is a surreal but not entirely unusual experience for Daisy. It's not one she ever enjoys, of course, but desperate times and all that. Survival is the priority now, and if that means she has to stomach being around the fucking "god" of mischief, then so be it.
Wincing slightly as she slips off her own bag, she sets it on another chair and undoes the top zipper. She remains standing while she pulls out an aluminum water bottle; if she sits, she might not be able to get back up again. Her hand is aching too much to properly hold the bottle, so she wedges it between her elbow and her side, the action so easy that is screams of practice. ]
Yeah, well, you ruined Coulson's life, so I really don't care if you're having a bad day.
[ There's a bitterness to the words that doesn't extend to her actions. After she's taken a drink of the cold, clean water, she twists the cap back into place and holds it out to him. He might be her enemy, but he'll be useless to her if he dies of dehydration. ]
[ Loki looks up, and his gaze is shrewd. Better he know exactly who and what he was dealing with here, and learn what he could before the situation progressed any further. ]
[ Fine, he doesn't have to take it. But she still sets the bottle on the chair beside him because she's too good of a person to just let him go without. ]
I didn't know him then. I met him after, when SHIELD brought him back using an experimental procedure and he spent years dealing with the trauma of what was done to him.
[ She says it all very matter-of-factly like she's reciting facts from a history textbook. It's easier this way when she's too tired to let her rage take over again. ]
My name is Daisy Johnson. I'm an agent of SHIELD and Phil Coulson is the closest thing I've ever had to a father.
[ The bafflement and surprise on Loki's face isn't feigned — he had no idea the human wasn't still dead, nor particularly would he have cared if it hadn't dropped this woman on his metaphorical doorstep with a grudge. ]
It sounds like SHIELD was dabbling in forces far beyond their understanding, to no one's surprise. Interfering with the realm of Death is unwise at best, and disastrous more often. Are you sure your grief isn't with the organization you align yourself with?
[ His smile is sharp but empty. ]
So you're what— here for revenge? How did you find me?
[ He lifts his blade to point at Daisy again, but the movement is half-hearted. His mind is already working, and convenient coincidence just isn't lining up. ]
Or rather, who sent you and how? I don't believe that in all this blasted hellscape of a planet, you just accidentally managed to run into the one person you'd like to visit vengeance upon.
[ He's not completely wrong about SHIELD and their ill-advised attempts at messing with alien physiology for their own benefit. Coulson himself had shut down that experiment for a reason. But all of that is in the past, it's been dealt with, unlike the crimes committed by the man in front of her. The man who clearly did the same thing in this timeline.
She knows what he's doing, trying to bait her, get a rise, manipulate her to his advantage. But this is something she's been trained for, by SHIELD and by her supremely shitty childhood. So she lets it all wash over her and focuses on the important part. ]
No, I accidentally managed to run into the one person who might be able to help me get home.
[ She says it simply whole she rezips her bag before facing him fully. ]
[ Loki's eyes narrow at the way she ignores his question, because it seems similarly impossible for that to be coincidence. Did she not realize the scope of what the Direwraiths had done to Earth, let alone the rest of the cosmos by this point?
At its mention, the geas-magic rises inside him, a subtle pressure that he unfortunately knows could become crushing if things went wrong. ]
A geas is a magically enforced debt, the worth of which is banked in its bearer's strength of arcana. I offered you one request, and so refusing to fulfill it would cost me that which I bartered.
[ This time his smirk looks more at home on his face, a shade of the God of Mischief finally rising to the light. ]
But a geas banks both ways once accepted. It worked because you offered something of equal value in return. So now if you try to cheat our deal, it is you who would pay the price.
[ He thinks he's got the upper hand, that he's playing her. It's true that this throws a wrench into certain scenarios she'd been mulling over, but there are always loopholes to every deal, magical or otherwise. She doesn't even have to consider all the angles to see one staring her in the face. ]
So I can't intentionally let those things get hold of you, and I probably can't kill you myself. What, you really think that limits my options?
[ Smiling like the skilled spy she is, Daisy shakes her head. The way he underestimates her is almost comical. Picking up her backpack by the grab handle, she starts making her way down the hall toward a supply closet she'd noticed earlier. ]
You may do whatever you like. The contract was made of your free will, uninformed though it might have been. Anything is possible if you're willing to pay the price for it.
But you've already expressed your desire to see me dead, and I would be a fool to think this changes anything. At best, I would expect you to at least wait until it was more strategically advantageous before trying again.
[ Loki rises to his feet, picking up the metal bottle from the table next to him and following after her, bootfalls quiet on the cracked linoleum. ]
[ She's a bit surprised that he follows instead of just waiting by the door, but his question clears up her confusion. He's fishing for information, probably to find something else to leverage against her. In this case, however, it's probably good for him to know; if they get into another sticky situation, they may have to find a different way out of it.
Stopping at the little supply room, she opens the door and steps inside, fishing the flashlight out of her bag's side pocket to start examining the bottles lining one of the shelves. ]
Everything in the universe vibrates at its own unique frequency. I can manipulate those vibrations, even project them like I did earlier. [ She picks up one of those bottles, peering closely at the label. ] But when I make other things shake, I shake too. Burst capillaries and hairline fractures are pretty typical if I'm not wearing my protective suit, but the damage gets worse the more I use my powers.
[ Loki lingers in the doorway, watching her. His blade has disappeared again, either tucked away into one of the folds of his armor — shabbier than it had appeared, now that there's a backlighting from the flashlight — or magicked away entirely. ]
Other worlds have various names for it, but I'm not unfamiliar with the concept. Asgard's healers utilize it, in particular.
[ Ah. He would have to get used to the past tense for that, now. ]
[ She repeats the word as if trying it on for size. That's one way of putting it, certainly. Opening the top of her bag a little, she drops two of the bottles in before grabbing a few rolls of bandage to add as well. Other areas of the hospital have been picked over by scavengers, but it looks like they didn't quite make it this far, or they weren't interested in basic first aid supplies. ]
I've never met anyone else with my ability. Inhuman gifts are usually unique for each generation.
[ A third bottle is added to the bag, but not until after she'd twisted it open to shake three orange pills into her palm. She pops them into her mouth and swallows them dry without even a hint of a grimace.
Glancing back at him, she gives him a once-over, noting the lack of knife in his hand. He's probably not going to stab her, so she's not overly worried about that, but it is in her best interest to know what he's capable of. ]
[ The faintly pinched crease between Loki's brows says he doesn't know that term from the name alone, although if she chose to offer more context he would recognize the group's precursors. ]
You would be wise to be judicious in its use going forward. Now that the Direwraiths have been exposed to it, they will hunt its signature. Each usage will be a new beacon by which they can track you. Neither of us needs that ability added to their already immense arsenal — although I suppose by that point, you would not be in any capability to care about such things.
[ Caution offered, he leaves the doorway, heading down the hall to the nearest nurses' station. Alon the way he grabs one of the drawstring bags that hospital staff would have gathered the used linens. He's still rankled about his other bag being left behind, even as he's resolutely written it off. It's simply not worth taking the risk to retrieve it.
His own search for supplies is methodical and deliberate. He bypasses most of the drugs — the ones left out aren't potent enough to do him any good — and focuses on things to treat physical ailments. Gauzes, packing pads, a suturing kit. It should have been laughable that he need such things, but these were no longer ordinary times. ]
[ Those words of caution are like bricks being piled onto Daisy's chest, each sentence another layer pressing down upon her until it's hard to breathe. She feels Loki move away, sensing him go further down the hall, and she's grateful for the bit of privacy while she tries to keep control of her emotions. Panicking right now won't do either of them any good, even though she has every reason to with what he's just told her.
Using her powers isn't an option anymore. It's not just the usual worry of making sure she doesn't break every bone in her body. Now, she has to worry about those things noticing and coming to... what, take her power for themselves? She's had enough of monsters stealing her birthright, and this world doesn't deserve to be torn apart.
But all of this means she'll have to take precautions. It's not as simple as just not using them. Her powers are part of her, they respond to her emotions and physical state, and those aren't always easily moderated...
After a minute of collecting herself, she steps out of the supply closet, closing the door behind her before heading down the hall to find her unwelcome companion. He's found his own stash of supplies to raid, so at least he's continuing to be useful. ]
I'm going to try to find the pharmacy and kitchen. If we're lucky, maybe they're as untouched as this wing. You can stay here if you want, just secure the door behind me.
[ If he cares to notice, she's not doing much to hide the way her mood has dropped, as if all the fight has gone out of her. She's just barely masking her anxiety under her exhaustion. ]
[ He does notice the more subdued change, and while he can hope that she might take his warning to heart, it had been only a short time ago where she'd been ready to bring the Direwraiths down on her own head just for the chance to take him down.
I'm an agent of SHIELD and Phil Coulson is the closest thing I've ever had to a father.
Loki can't quite restrain the curl of his lip which, outwardly, has no discernible instigation. How nice it must be, to have an adoptive father figure who inspires such loyalty. Once, he might have done the same. Once, he might have lived in blissful ignorance that it would have been enough.
No, Loki was not naïve enough to think that Daisy's change in countenance meant she was any less of a danger to him. And so it would be unwise to let her far from his sight, especially when he dared not exercise his magic on such an imprudent thing to track her. ]
[ Loyalty is a poor excuse of a word for what Daisy feels toward Phillip J. Coulson. He'd given her everything she has. A home, a purpose, something to believe in. He'd believed in her before she'd believed in herself and he'd never stopped. He's the most important person in the world to her, and he would do anything for her, just like she would for him.
Everyone should have someone like him in their life. The world would be a better place for it.
The look Loki wears doesn't need explanation, not where she's concerned. She doesn't care to know what she's done to bother him this time. ]
Okay. Do you have what you need from here?
[ Look at her being polite to her enemy. It must truly be a sign of the apocalypse. ]
Yes. It seems as though their stocks were almost thoroughly expended by the end.
[ After finding a map plaque on the wall, they ascertain they're on the wrong level for the kitchen and cafeteria. It's only one flight of stairs but before they've reached the midway landing, the smell has started, and when the stairwell door opens, it is to a ghastly sight.
Bodies.
Loki had, somewhat distractedly, noted the absence of all the blankets and sheets on his perusal for supplies. Now, he knows where they have gone. The earlier dead were presumably the ones in the black zipped body bags, the lowest layer of the piles. And at some point they must have run out, because stacked atop them like macabre cords of firewood, sheet-wrapped corpses. There was no way the on-site morgue could have handled this many, and they'd just walked into the area that had become the overflow, back when there were still enough left alive to care what happened to the deceased.
Loki moved a few steps inside, surveying the grim view... but only for a moment. Then, reorienting himself by the signage on the wall, strode down the hall toward their destination. ]
[ By the end. Not for the first time, Daisy wonders just what the hell happened on this world. And if Loki's here, if he's living like this, she has to what else is different in this timeline. Is he just hiding on this planet because there's nowhere else to go? Given the sheer number of habitable planets in the universe, that seems a bit unrealistic. So, was Earth then just one of many destroyed by these creatures?
Her instincts to try to stop the Direwraiths and salvage what's left of this world are at war with her instinct to get the hell back home so she can make sure this doesn't happen there too. SHIELD and all the rest will need to be prepared to face these things if the day comes, and the longer she's here on this broken planet, the more at risk she is of being captured. She's already had her powers stolen once; she's not letting it happen again.
That battle within becomes even worse when exit the stairwell. It's a good thing there's nothing in her stomach — it wouldn't have stayed there for long. One decomposing body is bad enough, but piles of them? She tugs her long sleeve down further and lifts her injured arm up to press the extra length of fabric over her nose and mouth, effectively covering her horrified expression but doing little to block the offensive odor from the dozens of corpses. The twinge of pain helps to keep her focused through the wave of nausea, and then she follows Loki. Yes, she's sad for these people and the horrible fate they've suffered, but there's nothing to be done for them now.
Still, she's certain she'll never forget this smell. Even in the unlikely event that there is any food left to rot in the kitchen, it'll smell heavenly compared to what was in that hall. ]
[ She's not wrong about the breadth of possible planets that Loki knows about, but without the power of the Bifrost and with the Direwraiths already keyed onto his magical signature, leaving the Nine Realms is harder. The hidden pathways he once bragged to Thor about knowing so well are still there, of course — they are woven into the very fabric of their reality — but it would be akin to injecting poison into a vein. It is a fallback plan that he only plans to enact if there is literally no other option available to him, and that means he will stay on Earth until a more advantageous option can be found.
His expression twists in a cold smile to see Daisy affected by the corpses. Not that he's immune to the smell either, but he's much better at hiding it, and he has no personal stake in what those bodies represent. They're not his people.
— Asgardian bodies falling in waves, golden shields and spears clattering to the ground, screams of fear rising from the people fleeing — ]
You didn't answer how you arrived here. Or why you seem unfamiliar with the Direwraiths.
[ His mind turns, examining and discarding possibilities. ]
You're not the Daisy Johnson of this universe, are you?
[ For a long moment, she's silent, weighing potential responses while keeping her expression neutral. There's no point in denying it, nor is she all that surprised that he's guessed it — he was raised on Asgard, after all, and she hasn't been able to hide her secrets very well without knowing all the pertinent information. So he won't get some shocked sputtering or any frightened outrage from her. She's too tired for that nonsense, anyway. ]
No, I'm not.
[ And then she hardens, her edges becoming stone worn smooth from too many years of hardship. ]
And don't get any ideas. Our Loki is dead and we don't need a replacement.
But that doesn't answer the question, which I have posed now a third time for those who are unable to follow basic literacy, how you got here. "Inhuman" or not, I doubt your powers include multiversal travel, else you'd be less lost and confused by the whole process.
[ He pivots, turning back to stride toward her warningly. ]
So must I spell it out in child-sized syllables? I'm not asking because I enjoy your snarling conversational countenance. If the Direwraiths are able to consume whatever brought you here, it will not matter if you are from this, or any other universe. They will be able to infest every reality.
So shelve your petulance for the moment and answer. my. question.
[ Daisy just takes the outburst in, watching him from behind that hard mask, waiting to see how far he'll go. He's never struck her as the type to be overly violent; from all she's heard, he attacks with words and schemes, saving knives only for when he's truly desperate. So she lets him get it all out before she rolls her eyes and sighs tiredly. ]
Calm down before you give yourself a stroke.
[ And then she moves past him, intent on continuing toward their destination. The hardness from before dulls but doesn't entirely fade; she's mostly just tired. Of all of this, but especially of him. ]
I was brought here by a stone monolith created in what we called the Fear Dimension. It's not the only one out there but they all do different things, and they can't be reprogrammed, so even if the Direwraiths can consume stone, they won't just be able to hop around wherever they like.
[ It is true that he would usually not resort to such stridencies without cause, but he has been dealing with the problem of the Direwraiths directly for more than the few weeks that she has. He is stressed and tired, and perhaps more affected by the squalor of their surroundings than he lets on. ]
They don't—
[ Loki looks like he's developing a headache, a silent count so as to keep his tone level. He can hardly expect her to take the threat seriously if she doesn't understand the scope of it. ]
Much in the same way that you can sense individual vibrations, every object and person that has ever been touched by a source of power has its own energy signature. That is what the Direwraiths consume, and once they do, they can replicate it and combine that energy with the energy of a thousand other stolen sources. Your stone monolith may not be reprogrammable, but it may be reproducible. I assume, since you are still here, that the stone itself did not come with you when you arrived?
[ Okay, so as usual, things are more complicated than they seem. Nothing can ever be easy when it involves aliens. Just once, she'd really like for something to be easy. ]
No, the transport stones stay where they are and open a portal to another location. In my universe, it was in a cave in the Polish countryside. The portal dropped me in the city.
[ She's not entirely sure what he's expecting. Is he wanting to find the stone and use it? Find it and destroy it? If it's the latter, she'll wish him luck with finding major explosives to get the job done. ]
[ So the monolith was not physically present, which meant that the Direwraiths shouldn't be able to absorb it. The urgency of that immediate problem mitigated, Loki resumes pace for the kitchens as well.
As expected, it has been ransacked quite extensively. Cupboards and cabinets in hospital-standard stainless steel lay pulled open and bare, old bottles and jars and plastic wrappers crunching quietly underfoot. But with some persistence, they're able to find some old, dry staples: soup packets, instant oatmeal, crackers and the like. ]
[ There's so much more to potentially be concerned about with the monoliths, but Daisy chooses not to bring any of it up right now. There's nothing they can do about it, so why waste time worrying when there's so much else to focus on? ]
We should split this up. [ Finding anything is a relief, even if they aren't the most substantial options. ] If we each carry half, it'll still be okay if something happens and we lose another bag.
[ Which, yes, bringing it up is basically giving him an invitation to complain about losing the first bag, but whatever. She can deal with a whiny alien so long as he's not trying to stab her in the back. ]
[ Loki considered for a moment, almost long enough that she might think he would refuse, before separating half of what he'd collected and leaving it on the table for her to collect. It was a sound assessment, after all.
He touches the wall again, concentrating, and eventually nods. ]
The ámáttugr is strong enough to mask us for a day or two, but we should try to leave the area as soon as is safe.
[ It feels like they've crossed a bridge with that, or something close to it, anyway. He didn't just immediately dismiss her idea but considered and even accepted it. That seems like a sizable step considering their situation.
She adds her half of the haul to her bag while he does his thing at the wall, not questioning how he can do what he can do. Magic is so far beyond her realm of expertise, she isn't interested in interfering with whatever he's doing. ]
Okay. That gives us a little time, at least. We can decide what to do. [ Hefting her bag again, she nods back the way they came. ] I still need to find the pharmacy.
[ She hesistates for just a moment, then explains. ] I need to see if they have sleeping pills. I sometimes use my powers when I have nightmares.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
even when the world is breaking —
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With even the might of Asgard's army falling before them, Earth had been in no way prepared for the onslaught. It wasn't like it had been with the Chitauri (he felt a cold burn of anger in remembrance, though it quickly banked) with foot soldiers and explosions and the heroic few rising up. This had been methodical, relentless, nondiscriminatory; humanity hadn't stood a chance.
That wasn't to say they didn't try. The Avengers, SHIELD, even splinter cells of HYDRA who'd decided that as much as SHIELD needed to burn, it was better than the alien-driven apocalypse. Governments and military had given their all, and more than a few Enhanced individuals had come out of hiding to try and save the planet.
It hadn't been enough. One by one they fell, and each defeat simply empowered the Direwraiths even more. They targeted everything, from power grids to water supplies, to the entire food supply chain. They were well-practiced in how to bring any civilization to its knees.
Now they prowled the world, searching for survivors and consuming the energy of the planet itself. More of them were doing the same on the other worlds of the Nine Realms. They hunted, solo or in packs, rooting out any survivors with a vicious efficiency.
Loki had slipped through one of the hidden passages to Earth in the last moments as Asgard fell. Nothing he could have done there would have changed anything, and if he were alive, there was still a chance that he could find a way to stop them. Two years was barely the blink of an eye to an Asgardian, yet it felt like a century had passed. The Direwraiths could sense his magic, so he was forced to make use of it with utmost scarcity.
The shells of former metropolises were both a blessing and a curse to be in. While there were more Direwraiths on the prowl in what had once been such a high density area, the residual esoteric energies of the place helped mask his own. While he would have preferred to be somewhere far from former civilization, that would have made his magical signature stand out like a beacon.
At the moment, he was rifling through a stock room of a small restaurant in Hell's Kitchen. Everything had long been looted, of course, but perhaps something had been overlooked. Always thin, his frame has become gaunt, and his usual outfit is faded and rough. A noise seems too loud in the otherwise stillness of the dead city, and he freezes, drawing one of his knives from its sheath and listening hard. ]
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She'd cried until dawn and not again since. Tears won't solve anything, and if she starts again, she may never stop.
Tightening her pack against her back, she moves quickly and quietly down an alley, heading for a row of restaurants she hasn't checked yet. It's further than she's gone from her home base in days, but times are getting desperate. The pack she'd had with her when she'd come through had the usual SHIELD kit for missions, including a few not completely disgusting MREs shoved at the bottom. She's done her best to make those stretch with a few canned goods she'd found but everything's gone now.
The first back door she tries is unlocked, which doesn't bode well for her prospects, but she still slips inside, moving cautiously through the space. Checking the few storage shelves in the kitchen, she jumps as a rat the size of a housecat skitters by, her bag catching the edge of a pan and causing it to tip and then clatter against the metal tabletop. ]
Shit.
[ Her muttered curse slips out as she creeps back to the door, cracking it enough to peer out. The sound shouldn't have carried enough to draw attention from anything roaming nearby, but you can't be too careful when it's the end of the world. ]
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The stock room had been down in what had at one time been the building's cellar, converted at some point in the past to make the most of the precious small amount of physical real estate on the typical New York lot. Loki crouched at the top of the narrow staircase, hidden only by the rickety basement door, small bag of scavenged provisions all but forgotten at his feet. He heard the back door crack open as the person checked the alleyway.
If they left, Loki would be relieved. If they didn't and tried to check the basement, well... he wasn't adverse to killing someone in the name of his own preservation. Collateral damage. ]
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Her boots are quiet thuds across the tiled floor as she walks toward it, but as she reaches out a hand, she freezes. There's someone on the other side. In the desolate city, her senses have become more attuned to the subtle vibrations of everything around her, and what is behind that door is alive but smaller than those things. So, person. Whether they're friend or foe will have to be seen. ]
I know you're back there. I'm not going to hurt you, so you can come out.
[ She keeps her voice quiet, knowing it'll carry in this oppressive silence. It doesn't even occur to her to walk away, not risk her own safety, and leave whoever this is to their own devices. It's another survivor, that's all that matters. ]
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I have nothing to fear from a humans in anything save their stupidity, as if this city is not treacherous enough without you fumbling noisily in here and ringing the proverbial dinner bell for those things.
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But it's not a dream. She can feel his unique vibration radiating from the hand over her mouth and the cold of the blade against her throat. For just a second, she's frozen, staring with wide, disbelieving eyes. And then she acts.
Without any care for the noise it would cause or the attention it might draw, she lifts a hand between them and shoves him away with a quake, sending him flying across the room. There are a thousand things she can think to say, but for now, she's silent, just watching him with anger and hatred in her eyes.
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You utter imbecile!
[ He sounds faintly strangled, and it has nothing to do with having just been thrown into a wall with enough force to crater it slightly. He opens his hand and the knife, which had been knocked from his hand when the quake had struck him, flew back to land in his grip. He takes an angry step forward; Daisy is between him and the exit. ]
Get out of my way.
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Let them come. If she's going to die in this place, taking him with her will be worth it. ]
I don't think so.
[ Her voice is like ice cold steel, determined and unbreakable. With a hand still raised to attack again if necessary, she keeps her feet firmly planted, ready for whatever trick he might try to play to weasel his way out of this. ]
I'd rather watch you be torn apart, or whatever it is those things do to their prey.
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[ It's both an admission and an epithet all at once. He will not plead, he will not, he is the rightful king of Asgard and Jotunheim, a god among mortals, and he will not debase himself with anything so servile— ]
I will barter you safe egress from the city and whatever you wish to take of supply.
[ The howls are closing in. Loki's teeth grit so hard that he can feel them cracking in the back of his skull; the tip of his dagger lowers slightly, the last word burning out of him like acid, like bile. ]
Please.
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You didn't show mercy to Phil Coulson when you stabbed him through the heart. Why should I show it to you now?
[ Because you're a good person. It might as well be Coulson whispering in her ear, reminding her that she isn't a killer. Daisy Johnson is a hero but she's choosing not to be. Dying a villain doesn't seem so bad when there's no one around to be disappointed in her. ]
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Fine. Fine! Geas-bound, I will give you one oath of mine. Anything you want in my power to grant.
[ The dagger lifts again, not to threaten Daisy this time, but to lay alongside his own neck. ]
But I will not let them consume me.
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Fine.
[ And she hates it. She hates that she's agreeing to this. But if there's a chance of him being able to help her... Or if those things getting hold of him would make things worse for whatever survivors might still be out there... As much as she despises everything about this situation, she has to make this play.
The only solace comes with the knowledge that when this is all through, she can kill him herself. So she lowers her hand and turns to head for the door as those howls sound from down the block. ]
Follow me.
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Consume had not been an idle choice of wording, and his stated intention to make sure the Direwraiths couldn't take him was no theatrical bluff.
Hell's Kitchen is a brick and mortar maze of alleyways and narrow clefts between buildings, many of them blessedly narrow enough that the Direwraiths could not fit down them. Insectoid-like claws gouge the concrete as the creatures tear up and down the surrounding streets, hunting them. With such animalistic behaviour, it was sometimes easy to forget that they were a very advanced, intelligent species and not merely beasts. He almost wasn't sure which was worse, but he keeps his dagger close at hand. ]
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Once they're outside, she can hear the creatures scrambling to find a way back to them, and it's only a matter of time before they succeed. Daisy looks in every direction, noting exits and laying them over possible routes in her mind. She'd grown up in Hell's Kitchen, it was a home she'd never really wanted to come back to, but it's not going to be the one she dies in. Not today. Not now that she might have a sliver of hope. ]
I might know a way out unless you've got some ideas to share.
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Fair and just democracy can wait, you—
[ He tastes blood from the inside of his bitten cheek. ]
Somewhere with a minimum of any type of power sources, they're drawn to it. Hurry.
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Stay behind me, and be ready to run.
[ Walking briskly to one of those narrow alleys, she sees one of those things dart past the end, searching for a wider opening to get in. It's now or never. Focusing on the vibrations around and within her, she pulls her power together and suddenly kneels to slam her left palm against the concrete. A surge of vibrational energy channels through the ground at her feet and down that alley, the buildings on either side shaking from the energy. It flows out to the street and spreads to either side, her expression tight as she strains to direct the power while those things cause chaos all around. A few seconds more and the ground cracks, a line arcing down the alley and out onto the street, where the concrete splinters, breaks, and then explodes outward as that energy is released. The howls take on a very different tone as much of the street collapses into the tunnel below, trapping some of the creatures and luring others toward it.
She staggers to her feet, pain warring with determination on her face, and holds her left arm close to her body. Looking back at him, she offers a prompt he probably doesn't need. ]
Let's go.
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Loki splays his hand out, a faint light beaming from his fingertips and suddenly he and Daisy are surrounded by copies of themselves. Then the copies go darting off in every direction, scrambling over the collapsed debris as if searching for a place to hide. It was a tenuous illusion, but even if it buys them just a few extra moments, that could be all the difference.
Her power isn't familiar to him, although it is reminiscent of the way the stone-shapers of Nidavellir control the earth. Loki eyes the way she clutches her arm and surmises another show of power like that isn't forthcoming soon. ]
They'll hunt until they lose our trace. Where is the nearest hospital? The ámáttugr in one will be able to mask us for a while.
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The what?
[ Maybe it's a magic thing, or some old Norse word that's common for Asgardians. Languages also aren't her thing, but she doesn't wait to find out the answer. She breaks into a run, heading down one of those alleyways and darting across a main street to duck into another. From there, they follow a spiderweb of narrow spaces between buildings and side streets until they've put more distance between them and those things. It's only a few blocks but it feels like hours pass before they reach Mount Sinai West. ]
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Ámáttugr. The mien of a place creates points of saturation which can confuse the Direwraiths. They cannot "see" through it to hunt as easily. A place like a hospital will have had no shortage of intense emotional discharge, and that lingers long after it is no longer in use.
[ Or if there was simply no one left alive to use it. ]
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Okay, we stay here for a bit then. [ She takes a deep breath, resigned to not being able to rest just yet. ] Come on, this isn't the only exit. We should secure the others before finding somewhere to hole up.
[ Somewhere with more than one door in case they have to make another quick escape. ]
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He eyes her injury for a moment before he reahced for his bag — only to curse loudly when he realized that it was not here. His mind flashed back to being thrown into the wall in the restaurant kitchen, and in the chaos that had followed, he hadn't remembered to pick it back up. All his supplies, meager though they'd been, lost!
Loki wants to be furious but mostly he's just exhausted. All of that work and it had been for naught; it could be days before the Direwraiths gave up scouring that area for traces of their quarry.
Apropos of apparently nothing, Loki utters a fitful laugh. If he doesn't laugh, he surely will scream. ]
I'll have you know you spectacularly ruined my evening.
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Wincing slightly as she slips off her own bag, she sets it on another chair and undoes the top zipper. She remains standing while she pulls out an aluminum water bottle; if she sits, she might not be able to get back up again. Her hand is aching too much to properly hold the bottle, so she wedges it between her elbow and her side, the action so easy that is screams of practice. ]
Yeah, well, you ruined Coulson's life, so I really don't care if you're having a bad day.
[ There's a bitterness to the words that doesn't extend to her actions. After she's taken a drink of the cold, clean water, she twists the cap back into place and holds it out to him. He might be her enemy, but he'll be useless to her if he dies of dehydration. ]
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And what was he to you?
[ He doesn't take the proffered bottle. ]
For that matter, who are you?
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I didn't know him then. I met him after, when SHIELD brought him back using an experimental procedure and he spent years dealing with the trauma of what was done to him.
[ She says it all very matter-of-factly like she's reciting facts from a history textbook. It's easier this way when she's too tired to let her rage take over again. ]
My name is Daisy Johnson. I'm an agent of SHIELD and Phil Coulson is the closest thing I've ever had to a father.
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[ The bafflement and surprise on Loki's face isn't feigned — he had no idea the human wasn't still dead, nor particularly would he have cared if it hadn't dropped this woman on his metaphorical doorstep with a grudge. ]
It sounds like SHIELD was dabbling in forces far beyond their understanding, to no one's surprise. Interfering with the realm of Death is unwise at best, and disastrous more often. Are you sure your grief isn't with the organization you align yourself with?
[ His smile is sharp but empty. ]
So you're what— here for revenge? How did you find me?
[ He lifts his blade to point at Daisy again, but the movement is half-hearted. His mind is already working, and convenient coincidence just isn't lining up. ]
Or rather, who sent you and how? I don't believe that in all this blasted hellscape of a planet, you just accidentally managed to run into the one person you'd like to visit vengeance upon.
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She knows what he's doing, trying to bait her, get a rise, manipulate her to his advantage. But this is something she's been trained for, by SHIELD and by her supremely shitty childhood. So she lets it all wash over her and focuses on the important part. ]
No, I accidentally managed to run into the one person who might be able to help me get home.
[ She says it simply whole she rezips her bag before facing him fully. ]
The oath. How does it work?
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At its mention, the geas-magic rises inside him, a subtle pressure that he unfortunately knows could become crushing if things went wrong. ]
A geas is a magically enforced debt, the worth of which is banked in its bearer's strength of arcana. I offered you one request, and so refusing to fulfill it would cost me that which I bartered.
[ This time his smirk looks more at home on his face, a shade of the God of Mischief finally rising to the light. ]
But a geas banks both ways once accepted. It worked because you offered something of equal value in return. So now if you try to cheat our deal, it is you who would pay the price.
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So I can't intentionally let those things get hold of you, and I probably can't kill you myself. What, you really think that limits my options?
[ Smiling like the skilled spy she is, Daisy shakes her head. The way he underestimates her is almost comical. Picking up her backpack by the grab handle, she starts making her way down the hall toward a supply closet she'd noticed earlier. ]
Oh, ye of little faith.
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But you've already expressed your desire to see me dead, and I would be a fool to think this changes anything. At best, I would expect you to at least wait until it was more strategically advantageous before trying again.
[ Loki rises to his feet, picking up the metal bottle from the table next to him and following after her, bootfalls quiet on the cracked linoleum. ]
Why does using your power injure you so?
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Stopping at the little supply room, she opens the door and steps inside, fishing the flashlight out of her bag's side pocket to start examining the bottles lining one of the shelves. ]
Everything in the universe vibrates at its own unique frequency. I can manipulate those vibrations, even project them like I did earlier. [ She picks up one of those bottles, peering closely at the label. ] But when I make other things shake, I shake too. Burst capillaries and hairline fractures are pretty typical if I'm not wearing my protective suit, but the damage gets worse the more I use my powers.
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Other worlds have various names for it, but I'm not unfamiliar with the concept. Asgard's healers utilize it, in particular.
[ Ah. He would have to get used to the past tense for that, now. ]
The intervention earlier was... timely.
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[ She repeats the word as if trying it on for size. That's one way of putting it, certainly. Opening the top of her bag a little, she drops two of the bottles in before grabbing a few rolls of bandage to add as well. Other areas of the hospital have been picked over by scavengers, but it looks like they didn't quite make it this far, or they weren't interested in basic first aid supplies. ]
I've never met anyone else with my ability. Inhuman gifts are usually unique for each generation.
[ A third bottle is added to the bag, but not until after she'd twisted it open to shake three orange pills into her palm. She pops them into her mouth and swallows them dry without even a hint of a grimace.
Glancing back at him, she gives him a once-over, noting the lack of knife in his hand. He's probably not going to stab her, so she's not overly worried about that, but it is in her best interest to know what he's capable of. ]
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You would be wise to be judicious in its use going forward. Now that the Direwraiths have been exposed to it, they will hunt its signature. Each usage will be a new beacon by which they can track you. Neither of us needs that ability added to their already immense arsenal — although I suppose by that point, you would not be in any capability to care about such things.
[ Caution offered, he leaves the doorway, heading down the hall to the nearest nurses' station. Alon the way he grabs one of the drawstring bags that hospital staff would have gathered the used linens. He's still rankled about his other bag being left behind, even as he's resolutely written it off. It's simply not worth taking the risk to retrieve it.
His own search for supplies is methodical and deliberate. He bypasses most of the drugs — the ones left out aren't potent enough to do him any good — and focuses on things to treat physical ailments. Gauzes, packing pads, a suturing kit. It should have been laughable that he need such things, but these were no longer ordinary times. ]
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Using her powers isn't an option anymore. It's not just the usual worry of making sure she doesn't break every bone in her body. Now, she has to worry about those things noticing and coming to... what, take her power for themselves? She's had enough of monsters stealing her birthright, and this world doesn't deserve to be torn apart.
But all of this means she'll have to take precautions. It's not as simple as just not using them. Her powers are part of her, they respond to her emotions and physical state, and those aren't always easily moderated...
After a minute of collecting herself, she steps out of the supply closet, closing the door behind her before heading down the hall to find her unwelcome companion. He's found his own stash of supplies to raid, so at least he's continuing to be useful. ]
I'm going to try to find the pharmacy and kitchen. If we're lucky, maybe they're as untouched as this wing. You can stay here if you want, just secure the door behind me.
[ If he cares to notice, she's not doing much to hide the way her mood has dropped, as if all the fight has gone out of her. She's just barely masking her anxiety under her exhaustion. ]
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I'm an agent of SHIELD and Phil Coulson is the closest thing I've ever had to a father.
Loki can't quite restrain the curl of his lip which, outwardly, has no discernible instigation. How nice it must be, to have an adoptive father figure who inspires such loyalty. Once, he might have done the same. Once, he might have lived in blissful ignorance that it would have been enough.
No, Loki was not naïve enough to think that Daisy's change in countenance meant she was any less of a danger to him. And so it would be unwise to let her far from his sight, especially when he dared not exercise his magic on such an imprudent thing to track her. ]
No. The kitchen... is a fair idea.
[ And truth be told, he was hungry himself. ]
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Everyone should have someone like him in their life. The world would be a better place for it.
The look Loki wears doesn't need explanation, not where she's concerned. She doesn't care to know what she's done to bother him this time. ]
Okay. Do you have what you need from here?
[ Look at her being polite to her enemy. It must truly be a sign of the apocalypse. ]
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[ After finding a map plaque on the wall, they ascertain they're on the wrong level for the kitchen and cafeteria. It's only one flight of stairs but before they've reached the midway landing, the smell has started, and when the stairwell door opens, it is to a ghastly sight.
Bodies.
Loki had, somewhat distractedly, noted the absence of all the blankets and sheets on his perusal for supplies. Now, he knows where they have gone. The earlier dead were presumably the ones in the black zipped body bags, the lowest layer of the piles. And at some point they must have run out, because stacked atop them like macabre cords of firewood, sheet-wrapped corpses. There was no way the on-site morgue could have handled this many, and they'd just walked into the area that had become the overflow, back when there were still enough left alive to care what happened to the deceased.
Loki moved a few steps inside, surveying the grim view... but only for a moment. Then, reorienting himself by the signage on the wall, strode down the hall toward their destination. ]
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Her instincts to try to stop the Direwraiths and salvage what's left of this world are at war with her instinct to get the hell back home so she can make sure this doesn't happen there too. SHIELD and all the rest will need to be prepared to face these things if the day comes, and the longer she's here on this broken planet, the more at risk she is of being captured. She's already had her powers stolen once; she's not letting it happen again.
That battle within becomes even worse when exit the stairwell. It's a good thing there's nothing in her stomach — it wouldn't have stayed there for long. One decomposing body is bad enough, but piles of them? She tugs her long sleeve down further and lifts her injured arm up to press the extra length of fabric over her nose and mouth, effectively covering her horrified expression but doing little to block the offensive odor from the dozens of corpses. The twinge of pain helps to keep her focused through the wave of nausea, and then she follows Loki. Yes, she's sad for these people and the horrible fate they've suffered, but there's nothing to be done for them now.
Still, she's certain she'll never forget this smell. Even in the unlikely event that there is any food left to rot in the kitchen, it'll smell heavenly compared to what was in that hall. ]
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His expression twists in a cold smile to see Daisy affected by the corpses. Not that he's immune to the smell either, but he's much better at hiding it, and he has no personal stake in what those bodies represent. They're not his people.
— Asgardian bodies falling in waves, golden shields and spears clattering to the ground, screams of fear rising from the people fleeing — ]
You didn't answer how you arrived here. Or why you seem unfamiliar with the Direwraiths.
[ His mind turns, examining and discarding possibilities. ]
You're not the Daisy Johnson of this universe, are you?
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No, I'm not.
[ And then she hardens, her edges becoming stone worn smooth from too many years of hardship. ]
And don't get any ideas. Our Loki is dead and we don't need a replacement.
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[ He pivots, turning back to stride toward her warningly. ]
So must I spell it out in child-sized syllables? I'm not asking because I enjoy your snarling conversational countenance. If the Direwraiths are able to consume whatever brought you here, it will not matter if you are from this, or any other universe. They will be able to infest every reality.
So shelve your petulance for the moment and answer. my. question.
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Calm down before you give yourself a stroke.
[ And then she moves past him, intent on continuing toward their destination. The hardness from before dulls but doesn't entirely fade; she's mostly just tired. Of all of this, but especially of him. ]
I was brought here by a stone monolith created in what we called the Fear Dimension. It's not the only one out there but they all do different things, and they can't be reprogrammed, so even if the Direwraiths can consume stone, they won't just be able to hop around wherever they like.
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They don't—
[ Loki looks like he's developing a headache, a silent count so as to keep his tone level. He can hardly expect her to take the threat seriously if she doesn't understand the scope of it. ]
Much in the same way that you can sense individual vibrations, every object and person that has ever been touched by a source of power has its own energy signature. That is what the Direwraiths consume, and once they do, they can replicate it and combine that energy with the energy of a thousand other stolen sources. Your stone monolith may not be reprogrammable, but it may be reproducible. I assume, since you are still here, that the stone itself did not come with you when you arrived?
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No, the transport stones stay where they are and open a portal to another location. In my universe, it was in a cave in the Polish countryside. The portal dropped me in the city.
[ She's not entirely sure what he's expecting. Is he wanting to find the stone and use it? Find it and destroy it? If it's the latter, she'll wish him luck with finding major explosives to get the job done. ]
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[ So the monolith was not physically present, which meant that the Direwraiths shouldn't be able to absorb it. The urgency of that immediate problem mitigated, Loki resumes pace for the kitchens as well.
As expected, it has been ransacked quite extensively. Cupboards and cabinets in hospital-standard stainless steel lay pulled open and bare, old bottles and jars and plastic wrappers crunching quietly underfoot. But with some persistence, they're able to find some old, dry staples: soup packets, instant oatmeal, crackers and the like. ]
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We should split this up. [ Finding anything is a relief, even if they aren't the most substantial options. ] If we each carry half, it'll still be okay if something happens and we lose another bag.
[ Which, yes, bringing it up is basically giving him an invitation to complain about losing the first bag, but whatever. She can deal with a whiny alien so long as he's not trying to stab her in the back. ]
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He touches the wall again, concentrating, and eventually nods. ]
The ámáttugr is strong enough to mask us for a day or two, but we should try to leave the area as soon as is safe.
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She adds her half of the haul to her bag while he does his thing at the wall, not questioning how he can do what he can do. Magic is so far beyond her realm of expertise, she isn't interested in interfering with whatever he's doing. ]
Okay. That gives us a little time, at least. We can decide what to do. [ Hefting her bag again, she nods back the way they came. ] I still need to find the pharmacy.
[ She hesistates for just a moment, then explains. ] I need to see if they have sleeping pills. I sometimes use my powers when I have nightmares.