My bad! I tend to forget about the tense thing often.
--
Strange as it was, and as utterly cloudy as he found the circumstances to be, Loki couldn't quite deny that for being his very first ride on a train, it was still a very fine one. There was something lulling about the clack and clatter of the wheels on the track, just as there was something enchanting about the passing countryside. Transportation at its finest and most comfortable, when compared to the art of flinging oneself across the distances with the momentum of a very large and very heavy hammer. The thought was a sudden one, and it halted just as suddenly as it came.
How quickly guilt worked, when one wasn't prepared.
He shook the thought from his head, and took to playing with the thing in his pocket instead. A watch, he thought, a clockwork pocket watch by its size. It wasn't not new, not by the Midgardian concept of new, but for Asgard it certainly was something to take note of. It was different enough to effectively distract him from darker thoughts, and that was enough, it'd have to be enough for the time being. Dials and buttons, doubtless functions he had yet to behold, and while it may not have been his Stark phone (which still nestled comfortably in his other pocket, he noted with some relieved satisfaction), it was still something worth investigating. When the train stopped, he assured himself firmly. He wouldn't want to miss his stop, wherever it may be. (If there was such a thing, even.) Better to be prepared than alarmed like he felt he wanted to be. Thor wouldn't want him to be alarmed, was the prevalent thought. Thor would want him to be ready, and brave, and everything that Loki wasn't feeling much alike.
But he thought he could manage anyway.
Face pressed against the window, Loki waited, a roiling blend of curiosity and consternation, excitement and alarm. To tear him from Sif's side and Thor's funeral, this unknown force had best have a reason most dire and pressing, was the grim little thought. Small as he may have been, young and inexperienced as he may have been, Loki was still an Asgardian, and was not Asgard a city of heroes? He would have to make do with himself and himself alone here, in the misty city rolling into view. There within its walls, there was no Thor to look to for assurance and protection. There, he would be Loki Laufeyson, and he would have to make do.
no subject
--
Strange as it was, and as utterly cloudy as he found the circumstances to be, Loki couldn't quite deny that for being his very first ride on a train, it was still a very fine one. There was something lulling about the clack and clatter of the wheels on the track, just as there was something enchanting about the passing countryside. Transportation at its finest and most comfortable, when compared to the art of flinging oneself across the distances with the momentum of a very large and very heavy hammer. The thought was a sudden one, and it halted just as suddenly as it came.
How quickly guilt worked, when one wasn't prepared.
He shook the thought from his head, and took to playing with the thing in his pocket instead. A watch, he thought, a clockwork pocket watch by its size. It wasn't not new, not by the Midgardian concept of new, but for Asgard it certainly was something to take note of. It was different enough to effectively distract him from darker thoughts, and that was enough, it'd have to be enough for the time being. Dials and buttons, doubtless functions he had yet to behold, and while it may not have been his Stark phone (which still nestled comfortably in his other pocket, he noted with some relieved satisfaction), it was still something worth investigating. When the train stopped, he assured himself firmly. He wouldn't want to miss his stop, wherever it may be. (If there was such a thing, even.) Better to be prepared than alarmed like he felt he wanted to be. Thor wouldn't want him to be alarmed, was the prevalent thought. Thor would want him to be ready, and brave, and everything that Loki wasn't feeling much alike.
But he thought he could manage anyway.
Face pressed against the window, Loki waited, a roiling blend of curiosity and consternation, excitement and alarm. To tear him from Sif's side and Thor's funeral, this unknown force had best have a reason most dire and pressing, was the grim little thought. Small as he may have been, young and inexperienced as he may have been, Loki was still an Asgardian, and was not Asgard a city of heroes? He would have to make do with himself and himself alone here, in the misty city rolling into view. There within its walls, there was no Thor to look to for assurance and protection. There, he would be Loki Laufeyson, and he would have to make do.