brandingproblem | au shenanigans for icasm

"I'm not getting whisked away on intergalactic adventures with you." Not yet. Not just yet. Nate still needs to be cared for until he's out of the house. "Might be able to convince Laura she needs a vacation, though. What's a place you'd like to show me?"

"Well if I'm to take people on a vacation there's any number of spots." Loki hums. "Gibborum is beautiful mid-winter, Indigarr has gorgeous sunsets and fascinating horticulture. I could do a whirlwind tour, I suppose. Sights to see around the galaxy."

"What's your favorite place?"

He winces to himself after, recognizing that maybe Loki's favorite place is probably someplace that doesn't even exist anymore. "Favorite that we could go to, I mean."

A long pause on Loki's end. "I don't know, really. It's been... complicated."

People usually know who he is. Trouble occurs. Memories haunt him.

"Perhaps somewhere new."

It occurs to Clint what this whirlwind tour might actually be. "Starting to think this isn't actually a vacation you're planning." More of a leave and never look back, keep going until eventually one of them (Clint) croaks. Cause as much trouble somewhere as possible, take off to parts unknown, rinse repeat.

"Is there anywhere on Earth you want to see that you haven't already?"

"There are some places. Some of them possibly mythical, the rest simply uninterested in contact with the broader outside world. Should I compile a list?"

"Well..." Does Atlantis exist? He's not taking the likes of Loki to Wakanda. Shit, does Loki know more about the planet than he does? "I can't promise I'd be able to get you to any of those places."

But it's nice to dream? Ugh.

That's too bad because Loki would really like to see Wakanda.

"That's fine. This is an exercise, anyway."

"In futility?"

There's a soft sound that might be Clint thudding his head back against the wall. "Sorry, that was...rude. This was my idea in the first place." To talk. Just talk. Try not to ruin everything. "A list would be nice."

Loki makes a sound between humming and sighing. "An exercise meaning practice, not in futility, actually. I can send a list.

Anything else I should send you?"

"If I say anything, you're going to actually send it, and I'll feel kind of weird about it." He mulls it over. "Some heavy duty painkillers. Dignity if you have any to spare."

"Hm." There's the noise of Loki getting up, going to the kitchen, going through his cabinets. "Do you want pharmaceuticals or magic?"

"Can you send magic?" Actually curious. Because frankly, with the life Clint's led, of course they've got some heavy duty shit in their medicine cabinet. Some stuff they probably shouldn't legally have in an emergency kit. "Or do you have to do that in person? Or you mean like, runes, or a pouch of enchanted herbs to steep in tea, or something like that?"

"I can send items with magical properties, or I could send a potion of sorts. It would be an object, not... raw power. Is this for now or later?"

"It's for hopefully never but just in case."

He licks his lips. It seems dangerous, but fuck, if Loki was going to do something to him, he would've a long time ago. Or else this is the longest con.

"Did you learn it from your mom?"

Things that'll make interesting topics of conversation in a year or two, certainly.

"Ah, I see." The rattle of glass bottles being moved around. "She did. Some of my fondest memories are with her, learning magic and potioncraft.

Do you have any good memories with your mother?"

Loki might be able to hear the grin on Clint's face. "Yeah. Yeah, we were really close when I was growing up. Did everything together. Had dreams of a place just like this. Nice farmhouse...tree out front to practice shooting at...I think she'd be proud."

He can. It's nice, actually. "I have no reasons to believe otherwise. You've done well for yourself, to remain true to those dreams in the first place."

His mother, honestly, would be amazed that he decided to live here. On Earth. In this place.

"I think yours might be a reason you're good with the kids. Had a parental figure who gave a shit. That means something, when you're young."

Loki takes in a sharp breath, says nothing for a moment. Memories of his mother often hurt. The loss feels both prescient at all times and monumentally secondhand. "She would have liked you."

That feels...heavy. Important. He never knew Thor's mother but knew how much it hurt him when she died. That she was very respected, for all the right reasons, rather than Odin, respected for...a lot of the wrong.

"Mom would've liked a trickster, I think. But," he says with a a sardonic laugh, "she also had real shit taste in men, so."

"What's not to like?" Don't answer that, Clint. "And yet she managed to raise you, or so one presumes." It's meant as a compliment, though in a very vague way; Loki is concerned that if he is too direct in his regard toward Clint he'll just get rebuffed.

Loki might be able to hear or at least imagine the pull of a smirk on Clint's face as he decides not to answer that. He's not averse to low-hanging fruit, but even he can tell to leave that one where it's at.

"To a point. Not always a good thing. But she did her best with the circumstances. I can't always say I did the same, but I guess I turned out okay."

"Well you already know my opinion on that matter." Whether or not Clint turned out 'okay' is something that, by and large, Loki feels is a matter of understatement. His children are wonderful and the world is safer because of him. Wouldn't that count towards being more than just 'okay'?

But he's trying rather hard not to start an argument on this phone call.

"I'm sorry she didn't get to see your farmstead."

"Yeah, well. She didn't get to see a lot of things. Heard about plenty."

It's such an oddly stifled conversation, for all the good will being built up here. He blows out a little air. "Loki." To redirect attention. "Eggshells. You're walking on them. You know you're allowed to say what you think."

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