The Car
They landed in the middle of a city, on an incredibly slow-moving, busy road, in a weather hot enough to make Loki start sweating within thirty seconds. He sincerely hoped that somewhere in his pocket dimension, he would find some lotion for the inevitable burns that will appear on his skin if they are to hike in these conditions. Surprisingly, Zozo’s mind was already fixated on something else, as she quickly took his hand in hers, and began running against the neverending current of tourists.
“Care to tell me where we are?” Loki asked, not appreciating this location much.
“My hometown, in 2008. We need to get to find an old man in blue Puegot, can you do that?”
Loki didn’t know what a Puegot was, but he nodded enthusiastically and began pretending to be very interested in searching. He lasted a minute before he opened his mouth and started talking.
“Why exactly are we searching for that man?”
Zozo didn’t bat an eye when she very matter-of-factly announced.
“We’re not searching for the man, we're searching for his car, because we’re gonna steal it.”
“This plan sounds absurd.” Loki complained, feeling the summer heat through his clothes. Damn him and his Asgardian leather, the moment they find the damn car, he’ll change back into the much lighter Midgardian attire. “Do you have any experience in stealing vehicles?”
“No, this will be my first time.”
They were definitely screwed. Now, for the first time in a while, he appreciated the precision in which Sylvie curated her plans, and for just a millisecond, he wished he didn’t put off dealing with the multiverse, had it meant that he wouldn’t be boiling alive while searching for a car he knew nothing about. Then he remembered that what Sylvie’s and Zozo’s plans had in common, was the infuriating vagueness when communicated to him. It very much annoyed him.
“We need to keep moving.” The girl ordered, squeezing his hand almost painfully, “Renslayer is onto us and should be here any minute now. We need to get to the car before she does, and travel somewhere where she won’t bother us until at least tomorrow morning.”
“Wait, judge Ravonna Renslayer? She’s the one who’s after you?” The words of shock escaped Loki sooner than he would like to admit. Zozo nodded, her brown braid bouncing up and down as she did.
“Yea, her. She’s been chasing me for a while now. Psychotic bitch.” She paused, then abruptly turned right, “I was thinking we could go to Berlin, my grandfather has a house there that should be empty at this point in time. Also there’s a corner store, and I’m kind of running low on toothpaste. Do you have toothpaste on Asgard?”
It seemed that Zozo was also very talented at changing the topic. Or maybe the heat was making her brain go faster and spew a million thoughts at the same time. Loki decided to bring the conversation to the matter that interested him much more than toothpaste.
“Don’t you think it’ll be much more efficient if we just use the tempad to get there?”
“No.” Zozo said, “I’ve tried. She knows the series number of the tempad and all the other information necessary to track where it takes us.”
This wasn’t exactly a very clear answer, but it gave Loki some more pieces for the little puzzle in his head that he was trying to piece together, and he was content with that. So, the girl had some connection to Renslayer. If so, perhaps she could be of use to him when he'll inevitably have to face the consequences of his actions. Well, not his, Sylvie’s, but since she is a variant of him, Loki felt somewhat responsible for her mistakes. Though the more he thought about it, the more compelled he was to just let everything burn and leave it to other, more self-righteous individuals. Old habits die hard, it seems.
“There it is!” He heard Zozo yell, which took him out of his thoughts again. She was heading towards a blue car, currently being driven at an impossibly slow pace by a man who looked to be both very old and very confused. “The old man has dementia.” the girl explained, “I read his file. He doesn’t know what he’s doing or where he is, we gotta take advantage of it and take his car.”
“That doesn’t seem very moral.” Loki muttered, “I assume I’ll be the driver?”
Zozo glanced at him with a mocking smile on her face, her brow raised slightly.
“No offense my guy, but I’d rather let my little sister drive. How much experience do you have with Midgardian vehicles anyways?”
“I have plenty, you rude little twerp.” Loki lied, taking a mental note of the little sister comment. After a few seconds, Zozo handed Charlie to Loki, and yanked open the doors of the blue car, an innocent, charming smile on her face, which didn’t match with her appearance otherwise.
“Hello, sir. Me and my friend over here will be your valets tonight. Please exit your vehicle so we can park it for you.”
The old man looked at her with a confused expression, mumbling something under his breath. Zozo’s eye twitched, but she remained relatively calm as she took out her arm and helped the man out of the car.
“Please, just leave us the keys,” she took them from the man’s hand and shoved them in her pocket, “there we go, thank you, now skidaddle. Your son is waiting for you, right over there, by the coffee shop, see? Just go straight and don’t worry about the car.”
The second the man started heading into the direction she pointed out, in a swift motion, Zozo yanked Charlie from Loki’s arms and practically threw him in the back seat, then leapt to the driver’s seat and started adjusting it so she could drive comfortably.
“Are you waiting for something?” She asked, when she noticed Loki just standing there. “Which part of Renslayer coming here after our asses confuses you?” She watched as the god clumsily made his way to the passenger seat, and gave him a judgemental look when he bumped his head into the ceiling. “Seatbelts, Loki, I really don’t wanna clean godly brain matter off those white seats.”
Loki felt like commenting something snarky, but decided against it, instead opting for rolling his eyes and fastening the seatbelts with an obnoxious sigh. It was a good choice, as he was nearly thrown out of the car when the girl finally drove onto a relatively empty road, and immediately sped up to nearly the car’s full speed.
“What will happen to the man?” Loki asked, “the owner of this vehicle?”
“He should be with his son right now.” Zozo answered, “He’s sending him to a hospice today, if we didn’t steal it just now, the car would stand in a cinema parking lot for at least the next eleven years.”
Oh. Maybe stealing from a sick man wasn’t necessarily as immoral as Loki thought it was at first. If the vehicle was to stand forgotten at the parking lot, perhaps they were doing it a favor. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Loki had a soft spot for abandoned things, and usually it annoyed him to the point of frustration. The car doesn’t have feelings, why would he care if it gets abandoned in a parking lot for over a decade or not? Still, he felt somewhat proud of himself for saving it from that fate. How pathetic had he become.
“Do you want some music?” Zozo asked him, after a while of driving in silence. They were now on a highway. An unimaginably boring, long highway, stretching over miles upon miles of empty fields only sometimes decorated with billboards advertising products Loki was not interested in, in a language he was not familiar with. Even Charlie seemed to have grown bored, as he stopped nervously pacing around the backseats and fell asleep curled up into a ball. Yes, music would very much help Loki with his boredom, but he’s experienced enough of Midgardian culture over the last… however long it was since the battle of New York.
“Not unless you have Asgardian ballads in that little device of yours.” He answered honestly, and while it felt good to be snarky and act as if he was above everyone, it also felt wrong, for the first time in his life. But only a bit, thankfully, which wasn’t enough to stop him.
Zozo glanced at him, her eyes beaming with both irritation and curiosity.
“I was going to ask, what does Asgardian sound like? Is it like old Norse? If so, does it have much in common with, say, Norwegian? Because if it does, we could compromise and I’ll put on some Norwegian folk.”
“Compromises are not my forté.” Loki responded dryly, though the offer sounded rather enticing. “And Asgardian music is too complicated for your small, Midgardian brain to comprehend.”
“Fine then, asshole. Guess I’ll do it my way.” Zozo muttered, then took out her phone and pressed the screen a couple of times, until a faint beeping noise was echoing through the car. After just a moment, both the screen and her face lit up, and she exclaimed, “Hey Liv! Thanks for picking up, I know you’re busy and all. I’ll only take a moment, I promise.”
“It’s fine my guy.” A raspy voice, which apparently belonged to a person named Liv, said, “What’s up?”
“So, I’m kind of in a situation here. See, I’m driving to Berlin, and I picked up this guy, Loki of Asgard, you might know him from New York?”
Loki blinked in confusion. Why was Zozo speaking of his identity with such lightness in her voice? Was she not going to conceal it?
“Thor’s brother Loki?” Liv asked.
Loki blinked in annoyance. Of all the times to bring up his brother, having Thor brought up as a means to introduce him was by far the worst. If he were honest, he would rather have Liv insult him directly.
“Yea that’s the one.” Zozo nodded, not noticing or caring about Loki glaring at her phone, “Don’t ask how, it’d take me a while to explain. Anyways, he’s being a pretentious little fucker right now and I’m trying to prove something, so could you please remind me of the name of that Norwegian black metal song you showed me a while back?”
“I beg your pardon, I’m being a what now?” Loki interrupted, causing Liv to erupt in a series of cackles.
“A pretentious little fucker.” Zozo repeated. “Just the name please. I gotta prove him wrong.”
“I can stream it for you if you’d like.” Liv suggested. Both she and Zozo were completely ignoring Loki’s annoyance and anger, and quite frankly, he wasn’t impressed.
“If either of you thinks even for one second that I’ll let the likes of you ever prove anything to me-” he started, but was cut off completely by a loud scream and the riff of a guitar.
Loki felt conflicted. On one hand, the intensity and volume in which the voices were screaming and the instruments were playing nearly made his ears bleed, but on the other hand, he understood every word perfectly, and they tugged at the sentiment he had for Asgard and the fact that he missed his home dearly. It was the first time he heard his language since that night on the rainbow bridge, and now knowing he might never see his kingdom again made this song feel… sacred. On the third hand, he would rather die than admit to being wrong, especially to two human young adults, currently having a laugh about something Loki wasn’t interested in. On the fourth hand, Mobius would urge him to be honest, and disappointing Mobius wasn’t a pleasant thought, even if he was imaginary. This problem seemed to have way too many hands.
“So Loki,” Zozo started, after the song was done, “How did you like Norwegian black metal? Or should I say, Asgardian?”
Loki clicked his tongue in annoyance.
“I prefer gold to metal.” He responded, which wasn’t exactly an answer, but it also wasn’t not that. Having a silver tongue and a lot of experience in his mother’s riddles, Loki knew how to avoid answering honestly while also providing enough information to stay out of trouble.
“I’m pretty sure gold isn’t a music genre.” Liv said, “But if it was, I’m sure it would be a great one.”
“We should start it, then.” Zozo suggested, “I can sort of play guitar, you can play your cat piano, and Loki could sing. Or alternatively, play on the tambourine.” She smacked Loki on the arm, “Do you wanna sing or do something else? I suppose you could also threaten people into listening to us, it’d be an effective marketing strategy-”
“I can sing.” Loki interrupted, not willing to listen to a monologue about instruments and bands. “And I won’t be threatening anyone. I’ve changed since New York.” Which was at least partially true. His head was a lot more clear and he didn’t feel the need to establish any kind of dominance over anyone. And perhaps, he may have still been a bit heartbroken by the more recent events. Only a bit.
“You literally threatened to beat me to death over breakfast.” Zozo remarked, which in Loki’s opinion proved absolutely nothing.
“You’ve taken that statement out of context.” He whined, trying not to sound pathetic or embarrassed. “For the record, I was not planning to actually do it, I was proving a point, much like you did just now.”
Liv sighed.
“Zozo, why do you always befriend people who openly talk about hurting you?”
…What?
Liv’s words didn't seem to bother Zozo nearly as much as they did Loki, as the girl shrugged and let out a small chuckle.
“I suppose it’s because if they do, then I’ll have an excuse to be sad for a while.” She answered, her eyes clouded with just a pinch of sorrow despite the cheerful tone of her voice, “And if they don’t, I’ll be all happy and proud about it, so either way it’s a win. But therapy talk aside, Don't you think it’d be at least slightly ironic if Loki of all people killed me? Like, I mourned and cried for him and dedicated all those years to him, and then bam, he kills me. It’s almost poetic.”
“You have issues, man.” Liv said, before Loki snatched the phone from Zozo’s lap and hung up the call.
It seemed the girl was much more upset about the violation of privacy than she was about the implication of her own words, as she stared at Loki with shock.
“Why would you do that, we were just getting started!” She exclaimed, disappointment and anger evident in her voice. Loki didn’t care. He needed answers.
“Who are you?” He asked, repeating his words from back at the TVA when they first met. “How do you know me?”
This time, his tone did not leave room to argue.