mischiefandice | INBOX FOR PRIMATICA

Lilias had never experienced weather like this before― weather that hit her like a wall as soon as she stepped outside, swamping her in sticky, sweltering heat. It was oppressive, impossible to avoid or to tolerate. It wasn’t two days into the heat wave before the air-cooling device in her apartment gave up the ghost, and after a fruitless attempt at acquiring a new one in a timely fashion, she finally accepted defeat and moved to plan B― finding somewhere else to spend her time that was still an acceptable temperature.

She finds her refuge in the sprawling Lunar Scientia library, which evidently is better outfitted than the living spaces in Level 2, with air conditioning units that continue to struggle along valiantly despite the heat. It’s the perfect excuse to continue her studies about the magic of this world― an activity which the myriad of new things Lunatia has to offer sometimes distracts her from.

Today she’s wandering the aisles with the aid of her cane, peering at likely-looking titles in the section of the library describing chroma and making her way in a roundabout fashion back towards a comfortable corner of the building that’s furnished with chairs and low tables. Her familiar perches quietly on her shoulder, apparently lulled almost to sleep by the surroundings, as she wanders along with her eyes on the shelves― only half-looking where she’s going in her quest for knowledge.

Loki too has fled the heat pressing down on the city, seeking refuge in the cool stone building that serves as a library. As he Frost Giant in disguise he is ill-equipped to deal with heat and it tires him to the point of exhaustion, leaving him thin-tempered and useless. His magic constantly tries to overcompensate for the heat too, and the air around him is noticeably cooler than anywhere else, even inside the library where the temperature is more bearable.

When Lilias wanders closer he's standing in the middle of the section about how chroma and magic interact in Prisma, his eyebrows deeply furrowed as he skims through the dense text on an old leather-bound book. "Preposterous," he says, irritated, and closes the book with a loud snap, pushing it back onto the shelf a little more forcefully than strictly needed.

He looks up then and sees Lilias's bird first, gleaming black and lovely on her shoulder, its eyes half shut. It reminds him of Odin's ravens, whom he'd always rather liked despite their constant reporting to his father.

As Lilias turns away from the books he gives her a thin grin, resting his shoulder against the nearest bookshelf. "Beautiful bird," he praises, and his tone is genuine, though the look on his face is not necessarily welcoming, taking Lilias's in demeanor, the way she is dressed, the cane.

The sharp sound of a book being forcibly snapped closed draws Lilias’s glance from the shelves in front of her. She hadn’t noticed the man standing just down the aisle from her until this moment― had he simply continued quietly reading, it’s possible she would have wandered right into him. Though now that she’s looking up at the man, the idea of overlooking him does seem a little far fetched. He’s not exactly small or unassuming.

Turning towards him, she smiles slightly with amusement at the compliment delivered to her familiar. It’s far from uncommon for him to receive such comments from strangers― he’s quite the popular fellow. “I’m sure he agrees,” she says, resting both hands on the top of her cane. “He certainly hears it often enough.”

Now that she’s facing him, she notices a slight breath of chill touching the skin of her face and hands, coming from the man’s direction. Even inside the library, the difference in temperature is distinctly agreeable.

“Do you have a particular fondness for birds?”

The comment draws a quiet chuckle from Loki and he leans in a little to examine the bird more closely, resisting the urge to reach out and smooth down the glossy feathers. "I'm sure he does," Loki agrees, amused.

The chill coming from him is definitely noticeable up close, though it's not cold enough to be unpleasant at the moment. He's not exactly doing it on purpose, even if he's aware that his magic is working in the background to try and keep him reasonably cool.

"My father kept ravens, when I was younger," Loki answers, honestly enough. "He used them as his messengers and his spies. They weren't friendly, but they were highly intelligent." Much like Loki himself, and he had enjoyed trying to earn their friendship by feeding them scraps of meat.

"How did you come by this particular bird?" he inquires, curious.

Lilias tilts her head slightly, interest playing over her features as he describes his father’s ravens. She wonders if magic was involved, and if so, what kind― she can’t really imagine a mundane bird serving much use as a spy without it. When he asks where her own bird came from, she decides there’s little point in playing coy.

“I summoned him.” She glances at her familiar, who seems to have stopped dozing and is now peering up at Loki from his perch. “I had need of an aide to assist in my magical studies, so I did a calling. He answered.”

It’s an abridged version of events, but he didn’t ask for her life story.

“I wouldn’t say he’s especially friendly either.” She smiles a little. “He’s mostly just interested in causing mischief.”

The answer makes Loki stare at the bird harder, his own magic humming in the air between them as he tries to see what kind of summon was used, and what kind of magic the bird has. "You're a sorceress, then," he states, openly interested. "What is your purview?"

"Ravens seldom are," he agrees, and that does not seem to bother him. His curious expression turns into one of delight at that last piece of information and he grins, playful but sharp. "What a coincidence. As a matter of fact, so am I." After all, mischief is his domain.

Lilias chuckles, raising her eyebrows in response to his cheeky admission. “Is that so?” On her shoulder, Bel chimes in with a hoarse laugh of his own.

There’s nothing preventing Loki from discerning that the bird is indeed magical, and bound to the woman on whose shoulder he currently rests. Belzath does possess some very minor magical talents of his own, but the means by which he was called remains... murky.

“I don’t really have a specialty,” she says. “I study what I find to be useful, which encompasses a number of areas.” She flicks a glance at the rows of books surrounding them. “Though I have not found the magic here to be... accommodating.”

Lilias's chuckle, followed by the raven's, make Loki grin wider, looking pleased. "It is," he confirms, arching his eyebrows. "So much so that humans called me the god of mischief, once." Not necessarily the title he would have chosen for himself at the time, though it suited him well-enough.

The fact that Loki can tell the bird is magical but cannot determine how and why exactly he is bound to this woman makes it even more intriguing to him. He wants to reach out and smooth down the bird's feathers, but he knows better. Ravens do bite, in his experience, and he's only just met this one.

He hums in acknowledgement, looking amused. "A practical approach," he says, stepping back a little when Lilias glances at the row of books around them. "It is not, though I've found one can make do with it, when necessary."

She gives Loki a mildly appraising look, her amusement now joined by curiosity at his mention of having once been called the god of mischief. What, she wonders, does a man have to get up to to earn a title like that?

“Hmm, well. It’s better than nothing at all.” She’s heard legends of places where the magic of the world is twisted so that it makes the casting of spells unreliable, or even outright impossible. No matter how wondrous the innovations of this world are, sorcery is something she’d prefer not to do without. “What is it, then, that you find magic ‘necessary’ for? And,” she adds, raising an eyebrow, “what are you called now?”

Many, many things, not all of them good, and not all of them true.

He grins at the questions, amused. "I am still called the same. But my name is Loki." He tilts his head forward, considering. "Oh, any number of things. One has to stay safe in this dangerous world. And entertained, of course." He's being evasive on purpose, unwilling to show too much of his hand at once.

"May I ask for your name in return?" he adds, his tone curious.

INBOX FOR PRIMATICA

lili & loki at the lunatia library

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