[nick / name]: Hiccup
[personal DW name]: bellezza[other characters currently played]: Marian Hawke :: Dragon Age ::
riseto[e-mail]: artemisian at gmail
[AIM / messenger]: {aim} troperific ;
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spellcoats[series]: Thor
[character]: Loki
Odinson Laufeyson
[character history / background]: ❝
In the end it will be every man for himself. ❞
[character abilities]: ❝
insert relevant quote here ❞
[character personality]: wordbarf Loki feelings here
In the Norse pantheon Loki is the god of mischief, a thief and a prankster with a sly and at times malicious sense of humor. The sons of Odin are as dissimilar as day and night: where Thor embodies strength and courage, Loki relies on wits and cunning; where Thor is forthright and honest, Loki is wily and deceitful. His manner is softer than his brother's, more subtle and patient, a shadow next to the sun; he has always preferred contemplation and speaking to action and battle. He has a keen, insatiable intellect matched only by a fierce ambition that has for much of his life been restrained.
Although greatly talented in his own way--clever, cunning, gifted at magic and and wordcraft--it was Thor that Asgard esteemed, and Thor their father favored. Thus was Loki ever met by judgment and held to a standard he could never achieve, and though he loved his home, his parents, and his brother, jealousy ate at him. Proud and vain, he has long had a need to appear untouched and in control, to be set apart from those baser beings who disdain him and whom he disdains in turn. But underneath that is a man with poor self-worth so accustomed to lying that he lies even to himself.
He claims that he never wanted to be king, only to be Thor's equal, but his actions--his fraying mental state and budding megalomania--after becoming king indicate someone unused to power, who for all his smug pride and assurance in his own abilities never expected to wield it: the phrase "to go mad with power" comes to mind. When Loki learned the truth of his origins, a childhood of terrifying tales, a lifetime of monstrous jokes, took on a new cast. Loki's inferiority as an Asgardian had clear roots in his true nature, and to him that presented a clearer and much more sinister explanation for Odin's favoritism. He was the monster of bedtime stories, the savage last enemy of Midgard legend, the scion of a house of murderers--and does blood not always out? The panic this revelation incited in Loki spurned his rash plan to destroy Jotunheim. In doing so he felt he would prove himself more than just Thor's equal, more than just a worthy son: he would prove himself to be æsir, not the monster that lurks beneath.
Odin rightly denounced Loki's actions, but Loki took it for more than that--it was condemnation, rejection, damnation. He could not win his father's love nor his brother's respect; bitterness turned to anger, jealousy to loathing, and love has been eclipsed by hatred. With his ambition unchecked now Loki is driven by his darkest nature.
[point in timeline you're picking your character from]: Movieverse: immediately after falling from the Bifrost
[journal post]: A note, Brother. While I appreciate your thoughtful gift, I am perfectly capable of picking out an animal myself. As I understand it works better that way, and I would rather one that is already house-trained.
The creature emptied its bowels on my carpet.In future it might simply be wisest to refrain from sending anything to my apartment. The spells I have set to safeguard my privacy from strangers are…disagreeable.
[third person / log sample]: Loki falls.
Space, black and silent and sprayed with stars, envelops him as he falls away from Asgard. It feels slower than it is. He realizes this in the part of his mind that even now surges ahead, calculating the gravity pulling his body down into nothing-yet not nothing, for where there is gravity, there is matter, substance. Asgard's glow fades at his back as the abyss swallows him; the voices shouting for him are swallowed by soundlessness (or perhaps he shuts them away himself). He can still feel the pressure on his chest from where Mjolnir had rested, pinning him to the ground. Space is cold. It cools the inferno of his rage until all he feels is a frost-tempered hatred that permeates his natural being, his magic, into whatever it is that monsters possess in place of souls.
As he falls, he sees: Yggdrasil, bearer of life; the dimensions of the cosmos, how the past and present and future splinter, converge, intersect, a kaleidoscope of potentialities more manifold in scale than the underground of an anthill. He sees: the birth of all things and the death of all things, in the flare of nebulae and the crushing gravity of black holes. He sees: the stupidity and folly of gods and men. He does not see (because he does not want to see): anguished husband comforting anguished wife, mother and son withheld from solace by their grief. It is the greatest jest of all, and he is less the jester and more the fool.
He lands in a place barren and inhospitable, a desolate landscape, and he knows then a different sort of pain than any other in his long life. Once there was a time he might lie cocooned in warmth with pairs of silk-soft and calloused-rough hands holding his, coaxing him back to strength after whatever cleverly-wrought plan had fallen through; but now he is cocooned only in agony. It tests his endurance in a way nothing else has, but he endures, endures, endures: he is made of ice. His body and his mind are two things apart, so he thinks and he plans and he cloaks himself in shadow from Asgard's sight.
Plans are simple things to his conception, spider-silk webs of minute stages and steps. His tread is airless, always has been, and he moves from one strand to another with all the ease of a curling wind. The mortals call the setting of a great war a theatre, a place of artifice and deceit. Loki sets the stage for his and his greatest caper of all.
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