Loki is caught sketching Mobius
Loki loved to study people. That was no secret. He was infamous for learning the interests and values of the people around him and using that against them. He acquired his knowledge in a number of ways; spying, disguising himself, feigning interest and care so they’d open up, etc. It was a perfectly logical assumption that he did this for his own personal gain or simply to cause mischief.
That assumption, however, wasn’t exactly correct.
He certainly did use what he learned for his own benefit; the reason he sought the information in the first place, however, was far less complicated.
He genuinely liked to watch people and to know them, to see how they tick. The behavior of his peers, while often blundering and foolish, was fascinating. His fascination only grew once he was old enough to travel the Nine Realms. He was constantly searching to expand his knowledge of everyone and everything around him.
He didn’t remember when he first started drawing. It was something he’d done for as long as he could remember. He drew whatever his interest was at any given time; features, expressions, movements, architecture, flora, fauna- anything and everything he found intriguing found its way into his sketchbook.
He loved doing it. It was one of the few activities that would quiet his mind, and he could spend hours working on a single sketch, laboring to ensure every detail was perfect. After returning from an excursion with his brother, one of the first things he’d do was find a peaceful place to sit and detail everything he could remember in soft charcoal. Often, his work became invaluable in jogging his memory of locations, events, and people.
The only downside to his hobby was that he had to keep it a secret. Every aspect of his appearance and personality marked him as other in the eyes of his people. Revealing himself as an artist would undoubtedly be a grievous mistake.
So he kept it to himself as one of his many secrets that he would never let people see. He kept his sketchbooks and supplies safely hidden in his room with the help of enchantments, and he restricted himself to only working when he knew he wouldn’t be disturbed.
When Loki first arrived at the TVA, he’d quickly found himself doing his best to memorize every detail he could see. At his first look out upon the seemingly infinite depths of gold-lit departments and structures overseen by three massive statues, he had nearly begged his rescuer for a pencil and paper.
More than the TVA, however, Loki longed to draw the agent who had somehow managed to save him from his undoubtedly awful fate. He found his features fascinating and captivating, something so mundane and yet so unique. He would trace them with his eyes, outlining his profile in his mind, his finger absently following his eyes’ movements, drawing invisible lines on the desk or his thigh or the wall; whatever was closest to him.
For most of Loki’s life, he’d never really gotten stuck on one subject for his art. He craved variety and was content when he felt he’d accurately represented them in his drawings. Regardless, Loki still found his gaze drawn to Mobius, no matter how many times he sketched the man. This fixation was a completely new experience for him. He had far more trouble capturing his likeness than he’d ever had with anyone else. No matter how close his work appeared to the real thing, it always seemed to lack some core aspect.
The only explanation he could come up with was that he was struggling to capture Mobius’s character. The man was always so calm and still. It was grounding just to look upon him, and it was difficult to feel anything but a sense of tranquility in the man’s presence. Each breath seemed deliberate; each movement had an aim. There was no fidgeting, no restlessness. He carried this aura of purpose that drew Loki in and made him want to follow him. It was hypnotizing, truly.
Almost without his notice, he began to sketch his likeness whenever he was near, determined to find a way to depict Mobius precisely as he appeared to him. He filled the margins of pages with sketches of his hands, decorated notepads with inkings of his jawline, and defaced important documents with studies of the exact draping of his tie. He would then have to rewrite those documents on a new paper and hope no one noticed a difference. Several times he had nearly been caught. He would often neglect his work to fill his notepads with drawings, and it drew the notice of his peers. Things quickly began to spiral out of control, and Loki did his very best to reign it in, but he always made sure to have a spare notebook with him at all times, just in case.
“Is that me?”
Loki jumped at the unexpected voice and scrambled to cover his current drawing with a file. However, Mobius was faster and plucked the notebook off the desk, much to his chagrin, stepping away effortlessly when Loki tried to snatch it back. Resigned, he sat back in his chair and watched, stomach twisting in anxiety, as Mobius studied his work. He was just deciding on the best way to provoke Hunter B-15 into pruning him when a soft smile lit Mobius’s face. Irrationally, Loki briefly ceased to care about the revelation of his secret and instead wanted his notebook back so he could copy that new expression down as the image was still fresh in his mind.
“How long have you been working on this,” Mobius asked quietly, not looking up from the page. Loki looked down at his hands, noticed a smudge of graphite, and rubbed it off with his thumb.
“Well, I uh….” Mobius looked up when he trailed off. His expression was curious, interested. Loki floundered a bit before trying again. “I began that piece in the cafeteria. You were reading your magazine, and I just….” He couldn’t make himself say what he wanted to, which was that Mobius had looked so relaxed and had this little smile on his face as he read about his favorite human creation, and Loki had been completely captivated. Luckily, Mobius moved on quickly enough that he either didn’t notice or didn’t care that Loki hadn’t yet finished his sentence.
“Wait, you’ve only been working on this since lunch?” Loki was confused by the question and furrowed his brow.
“I…yes?” Mobius gave him a wide-eyed smile.
“That’s incredible, Loki! You have real talent!” Loki breathed a disbelieving laugh.
“Mobius, you’ve seen the greatest artists who ever lived-”
“Which is how I know that this is good.”
As with every other complement Mobius had ever given him, there was nothing but complete honesty in his voice. Loki felt his face burn and again found himself lost for words. Mobius seemed to note his discomfort and reached out to return his notebook. However, before Loki could grab it, Mobius pulled it back again with an eager expression.
“Can I have a copy of this,” he asked, holding the book against his chest. Loki’s jaw went slack.
“Why,” he asked, a hint of frustration building inside him at his inability to read this confounding mortal. Mobius raised a brow.
“Because it’s good, Loki.” He smiled then. “It’s good, and it’s me. I wanna hang it beside my desk and look at it throughout the day.” He paused to think for a moment. “Also, it would be fun to flaunt to my coworkers that I have an incredible portrait drawn by a god. It’s quite the honor.”
“Alright,” Loki answered reluctantly after a long pause. “That’s- that’s fine.” Mobius’s smile widened.
“Great! I’ll bring this back to you in a ‘sec.”
Loki watched Mobius march off, presumably in the direction of a copier, and let out a deep exhale. He turned back to his desk, eyes staring blankly at the paperwork scattered about, and thought about the interaction he’d just had. A small smile tugged at his lips, and, without hesitation, he picked up his pencil and began working on perfecting that soft smile he’d received in the margin of a file.