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.
"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."
A sigh, not as sharp as it might be otherwise. "You are more than merely okay, but that may be an argument I'd be better placed taking up with a brick wall, yes? Because that is how you feel. That you aren't."
"Is that what's bothering you? I'm a former Avenger with an amazing family and a wild penchant for staying alive like a cockroach. Yeah, pretty sure I'm more than just okay. I was being...humble, I guess. I don't go around strutting my stuff telling everyone I'm the world's greatest archer. I've always been more low key about things. You know this."
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"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."
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"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."
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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."
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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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