[Loki is only half listening to the introduction. It sounds like things he's heard before. Directed at captives, trying to sell a dangerous trial as a fruitful opportunity to advance and prosper. He doesn't buy it, but he has enough sense to go along with it, until some means of escape can be found. The others appear to be mostly mortals- but he knows better than to discount them.
[Still, first things first. He plucks at his blue jersey, sticking to his body thanks to goo, with deep distaste. He creates an illusion of his normal Asgardian leathers to cover it-
[-except he doesn't. He can almost feel the energy, but it's as if it's right on his fingertips, and it slips away as he tries to shape it. Eyes widening in alarm, he tries again, then a different spell. One to clean himself up. With the same lack of result. Again and again, nothing works. Finally, he screams at the projector.]
My magic! What did you do to my magic?!
[He's trembling, hands clenched into fists. He looks ready to strike the projector.]
ii. heart of stone
[Odd how Loki is calmer now than he was when he first arrived. The joys of making peace with his loss in the hopes that it's temporary and treating the current circumstances as a challenge. He's done his best not to be hostile to anyone else in a jersey, but his sour mood keeps coming through all too clearly, so he hasn't been the best company.
[He turns at the sound of the new voice, but all he can do is watch- at first detached, then with growing horror- as the young woman is converted to carbon. His eyes then flick to where she came from, where more shadow creatures are fast approaching.
[Be nothing. As you should be. He can practically hear one of them whispering as it reaches for him. He takes a step back, involuntarily, before he shakes himself and moves with more deliberate purpose. Grabbing the nearest piece of debris and flinging it into the space between himself and the creatures. He'll reach out and try to pull anyone near him behind the pitiful barricade before picking up something smaller that can be thrown farther.]
iii. bad traveling
[Loki's been stuck in this alcove for some time as the horror patrols. He's pretty sure it didn't spot him, and originally he planned to wait until it decided that it had been mistaken about new prey entering its territory and make a break for the far end of the hallway when the monster was at its farthest. Then he'd noticed one of the gloves of his suit had vanished, just when part of the monster glowed. It had happened again and again, enough that he was sure of it. The creature was doing something to disrupt the technology that had been forced onto them. Probably it was trying to make its prey more vulnerable, but it could also be exposing its own weakness at the same time. The glowing areas appeared more fleshy than the rest of its exterior, and if struck while the effect was active, it might do more damage. Maybe even enough to permanently damage the monster and make the area slightly less hazardous for others.
[The problem: Loki didn't have any suitable ranged weapons. The sharp metal scraps he's been gathering to act as throwing knives are unlikely to actually break even the thinnest patches of skin, and he's reluctant to throw the longer, sturdier knives he got from the arrival cache. So he's waiting, either for it be within stabbing distance when it activates its glow, or for it to be distracted by someone else.]
iv. dinner party
[Loki doesn't need more than a minute to catch his breath in the safe room. He's an Asgardian warrior, he can fight in pitched battle all day. Running is less tiring than that. Or so he tells himself as he rests.
[It doesn't take him long to recover enough to take stock of the room. He's less interested in the food than in assessing how safe it actually is- examining the door seal and tapping lightly at the walls to guess at the sturdiness. He gives the bodies a cursory examination as well, suppressing a shudder and quickly moving on to the remains of the unknown creatures that likely caused the mortals' demise.
[After several minutes, satisfied that the room is safe enough, he approaches the table again and plucks several tins and pouches off of it, tucking them all into his suit's storage pouch. There's still plenty left, but that seems rather greedy, and he's not even eating any of them himself. Instead he's turned his attention to the data pads, checking them in turn, separating the ones that show any signs of power from those that are completely useless.]
no subject
[Loki is only half listening to the introduction. It sounds like things he's heard before. Directed at captives, trying to sell a dangerous trial as a fruitful opportunity to advance and prosper. He doesn't buy it, but he has enough sense to go along with it, until some means of escape can be found. The others appear to be mostly mortals- but he knows better than to discount them.
[Still, first things first. He plucks at his blue jersey, sticking to his body thanks to goo, with deep distaste. He creates an illusion of his normal Asgardian leathers to cover it-
[-except he doesn't. He can almost feel the energy, but it's as if it's right on his fingertips, and it slips away as he tries to shape it. Eyes widening in alarm, he tries again, then a different spell. One to clean himself up. With the same lack of result. Again and again, nothing works. Finally, he screams at the projector.]
My magic! What did you do to my magic?!
[He's trembling, hands clenched into fists. He looks ready to strike the projector.]
ii. heart of stone
[Odd how Loki is calmer now than he was when he first arrived. The joys of making peace with his loss in the hopes that it's temporary and treating the current circumstances as a challenge. He's done his best not to be hostile to anyone else in a jersey, but his sour mood keeps coming through all too clearly, so he hasn't been the best company.
[He turns at the sound of the new voice, but all he can do is watch- at first detached, then with growing horror- as the young woman is converted to carbon. His eyes then flick to where she came from, where more shadow creatures are fast approaching.
[Be nothing. As you should be. He can practically hear one of them whispering as it reaches for him. He takes a step back, involuntarily, before he shakes himself and moves with more deliberate purpose. Grabbing the nearest piece of debris and flinging it into the space between himself and the creatures. He'll reach out and try to pull anyone near him behind the pitiful barricade before picking up something smaller that can be thrown farther.]
iii. bad traveling
[Loki's been stuck in this alcove for some time as the horror patrols. He's pretty sure it didn't spot him, and originally he planned to wait until it decided that it had been mistaken about new prey entering its territory and make a break for the far end of the hallway when the monster was at its farthest. Then he'd noticed one of the gloves of his suit had vanished, just when part of the monster glowed. It had happened again and again, enough that he was sure of it. The creature was doing something to disrupt the technology that had been forced onto them. Probably it was trying to make its prey more vulnerable, but it could also be exposing its own weakness at the same time. The glowing areas appeared more fleshy than the rest of its exterior, and if struck while the effect was active, it might do more damage. Maybe even enough to permanently damage the monster and make the area slightly less hazardous for others.
[The problem: Loki didn't have any suitable ranged weapons. The sharp metal scraps he's been gathering to act as throwing knives are unlikely to actually break even the thinnest patches of skin, and he's reluctant to throw the longer, sturdier knives he got from the arrival cache. So he's waiting, either for it be within stabbing distance when it activates its glow, or for it to be distracted by someone else.]
iv. dinner party
[Loki doesn't need more than a minute to catch his breath in the safe room. He's an Asgardian warrior, he can fight in pitched battle all day. Running is less tiring than that. Or so he tells himself as he rests.
[It doesn't take him long to recover enough to take stock of the room. He's less interested in the food than in assessing how safe it actually is- examining the door seal and tapping lightly at the walls to guess at the sturdiness. He gives the bodies a cursory examination as well, suppressing a shudder and quickly moving on to the remains of the unknown creatures that likely caused the mortals' demise.
[After several minutes, satisfied that the room is safe enough, he approaches the table again and plucks several tins and pouches off of it, tucking them all into his suit's storage pouch. There's still plenty left, but that seems rather greedy, and he's not even eating any of them himself. Instead he's turned his attention to the data pads, checking them in turn, separating the ones that show any signs of power from those that are completely useless.]