Help! I need somebody.
The Rescue Me Meme
Sometimes, you just can’t save yourself.
- Post with your character’s name, canon, and any preferences in the subject line
- Those tagging, go to RNG and roll for a number between one and ten.
- Alternatively, just pick the choice you’re interested in most.
- A Bad Date - You get a text, a phone call, or maybe you can just see the other ( Read more... )
Four weeks with no signs of his captors except for the regular simple meals through a slot. No signs of what they wanted, no response to anything he did, said, or didn't do.
No chance of escape.
The slot opened and he watched another tray slide in. He closed his eyes again and continued counting his heartbeats. It was going onto the twenty-ninth day now with nothing to keep him company but his own dark memories and thoughts. He was slowly going insane.]
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[ The cell is empty one moment, and in the next the god of Mischief himself is standing to one side, looking considerably uncomfortable with the amount of dirt and dust in the room as he brushes flecks off his shoulders. It's a small room, dark, dreary, and secluded. But there's voices from the other side of the door, showing concern for the new sounds in the prison. "Who's that in there? How'd you get--"
But those voices are silenced with a wave of Loki's hand, and a heavy thud is heard from the other side of the door. ]
There we are.
[ He turns to the man in the corner, his staff disappearing as he folds his hands behind his back. ]
Now then. I imagine you're quite tired of this predicament you've landed yourself in, aren't you?
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Or was it? He had no contact, no one but himself for a month... what if he really went insane? And when did crazy people admit they are crazy?
Although he couldn't imagine why he would conjure up such a weird looking stranger if this man really was a figment of his imagination.
Looking up distrusting at his newly materialized companion, he took in the man's appearance with a guarded visual inspection.]
W-who... [He coughed to clear his voice.] Who are you?
[God, was that voice his? It sounded so rusty, even more sandpaper coarse than his normal husky tones.]
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A brow arches hearing the other's voice for the first time, and it's as raspy and broken as anyone could expect from another in such a situation, but it's still unpleasant to hear. The cell is dreadfully filthy, after all. And from the looks of things, he'd been in here for quite some time.
All the more easy it would be to acquire services. ]
Oh, what's the word I'm looking for ...
[ He gestures with his hand as he thinks, before remembering. ]
Ah. Your saviour.
Under the right conditions, of course, but it's more than you'll see in this lifetime.
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His eyes narrowed further.]
What... [He coughed again, his raspy throat sounding once more like sand was poured down it before some thick swallowing managed to get it a bit more presentable. Smoother, like hard vodka instead of his normally whiskey drawls, but at least it was no longer like moonshine.] What conditions?
[As he had learned the hard way, there are some things that he would rather die than to do again.]
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He steps closer, and crouches down, his voice softer. He reaches out, brushing those messy bangs out of the man's eyes. A tender gesture, unlike him, but certain things had to be done to gain trust. Even if it would be a betrayed trust in the end. ]
Loyalty, for one.
[ There is an army in the works, after all. ]
Would you be capable of that?
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Don't. Don't touch me.
[His words came out smoother now.]
How am I s'posed to be loyal to someone I don't even know the name of?
[Yes, he was able to be loyal. He could go through great lengths and fire and water if that was what it took, but loyalty wasn't easily earned from him. Not after how he'd been burned by those who misused him.]
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He stills, aside from an arched brow. Pulling his hand back would show fear and weakness, so Loki lets him grab as he wishes. But that is his hand, and he would like it back sooner rather than later. ]
If I may point it out, my friend, you are the one holding me in place and touching me. I had only wanted to see your eyes.
[ Seriously. ]
And I have several names, but if you must insist on one, you may call me Loki. Does that satisfy your curiosity?
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With a shove, he released the other's wrist, noting with mild curiosity that the wrist he had temporarily held was rather cool. The name meant nothing to him.]
No. [Feeling inferior to be sitting while the other stood, Eliot unfolded and climbed to his feet as well. It was revealed that he was still shorter than the other man even discounting the strange armor, but it didn't bother him at all.]
I still don't know anythin' about you. Or what you want.
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He straightened up as he was released, making a point to brush any dirt from his wrist where he'd been grabbed. Tch. ]
Understandably so, as I was about to explain myself before you so rudely interrupted me.
I am offering you your freedom, do forgive me for assuming such a gift was worthy of compensation.
[ He doesn't approach further, admittedly a bit wary of having his hand bitten off next time, so he maintains his distance. Not quite short enough to step on, but short enough so that he can lord his godly presence over him, Loki supposed. ]
As I said, I only ask for loyalty, and the odd favour or two should I see fit.
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[The way he said it indicated that it was clearly a thing he was capable of and valued highly, which meant he belonged with the group that believed it was a thing to be earned, not easily bought.
As the conversation carried on, the cobwebs that gathered in his mind began to clear. His whole demeanor changed towards sharper awareness as the retrieval specialist started analyzing things.]
You can get me outta here, that's great. I'll thank ya. But how am I s'posed to know you're not the one who placed me here in the first place?
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