"It feels like it shouldn't; he made it clear where we stood." But that isn't exactly an answer to her question, is it? "It's hard to leave a past behind when you know people are telling true stories about your bad behavior. It's hard to have the only familiar face be one that you don't get along with, that doesn't trust you."
His hands are shoved deep in his pockets and he shrugs. "But if I wanted to be remembered better I suppose I should have acted differently."
Abby snorts in understanding, mulling over this answer. She doesn't particularly care if Ellie ever trusts her. Abby doesn't much trust her either, and yet they exist together in the same space without any disruption. Maybe that is a form of trust, even though thinking about it that way feels cloying and heavy, like the cling of mud.
She wrinkles her nose.
"You told me you tried to take over an entire planet," she says eventually, looking up. "Why?"
Loki would say that it is a form of trust, albeit a very uneasy sort.
But he sighs, at that question, and gives a little shrug. "I was angry. At my family. And I wanted power, legitimized power, and that seemed a way to do it." Not an easy one, mind, but a way nonetheless. "Not the best plan I've ever had, by far."
But none of his plans have been excellent, really.
Uneasy; pathetic? Trust that you try too hard to explain away.
"I'm guessing it didn't work out so well." And the Provost here is an enemy because of it. Abby is guessing that isn't the only enemy Loki received as a result of this plan. "Sorry," she adds, hoping she didn't make him uncomfortable, "We don't have to talk about it."
Necessary. Pathetic, not so much, not by his measure.
"Definitely not." It could have been much worse, honestly. He could have been usurped by a revolutionary underground after the fact instead. That would have been an embarrassment.
Loki shakes his head. "It's fine." It doesn't make him uncomfortable, just annoyed at how everything went down. "You should know."
She makes a noise of understanding, hands pressing into her pockets. She can't exactly ask him why he thinks she should know, not when she did the exact same to him: you should know before you decide to get close to me.
Is it weird that she likes that they have this odd thing in common: bad decisions on a cataclysmic scale. Makes her feel a little more grounded.
The dog has shot off at a mad sprint again while they've been talking. He's gonna be so tired later. Abby chuckles, and scuffs at the ground with her shoe. She holds her breath for a moment. "... D'you regret it?"
Loki also watches the dog run as he turns her question over in his head.
"Yes," comes after a beat, because he needed to figure out if they were really regrets, what he felt, or just annoyance at the aftermath; a chain reaction he didn't properly predict. "Oh, certainly, it would have been grand if it had been ever capable of working, but it wasn't. At any point. Besides which, I don't really want to run an entire planet when one gets down to the brass tacks of the matter."
She snorts, kicking at the ground. It might be the same scale, but destroying a planet, and hunting down one, specific person? They're at opposite ends: two completely different extremes, and regret, for Abby, is a messy process. She doesn't know how to make jokes about it yet.
"Yeah," she says, just to say something. Maybe she'd expected something a little more sincere in response.
"I regret deciding I needed to be the monster of the fairy tale."
That comes after a few beats of both of them standing, silently. The mabari is still running from one end to the other, but Loki has long ceased tracking his movements. "I regret that it became my legacy. That I caused so much damage, so much heartbreak." For some people he will forever be the villain. He regrets that too.
She looks at him then, watching him work through the next few words like she's gauging something in what he says. Her brow furrows. There's a sympathetic ache in her chest.
"Yeah." This time, her voice is a little hoarse. She directs a grim squint out toward the horizon. "I– feel like that, too."
Her feelings about what she did to Joel are so snarled around the core of her grief that it's difficult to parse them out, but she can call that sentiment true. The fallout from her actions ruined everything.
He hears that note in her voice and swallows, nodding. It's difficult, the matter of growing a conscience after the deeds have been done. Knowing you've done terrible things, that your future actions may never properly outweigh.
Loki draws his hand through his hair, pushing loose strands away from his face that the wind will simply whip up once more as soon as he's done.
"I wonder, sometimes, if it isn't easier to just remain the villain." Shaking his head. "But that doesn't feel like a real option, and I don't want to remain the same."
"Trust me, it's– not." It's funny to think of herself as a villain (kinda over the top, right...) but to some people she was. To Ellie, she probably was. To the Seraphites, she definitely was. "You have to find a way to break out of it. And keep going."
There is all the difference between inching forward and turning around in endless circles.
"Being forced into a world and a humanity that I neither chose nor asked for seems like a clean enough break from the past," he points out, huffing out a sigh. "I suppose once one grows a conscience it is very difficult to turn back to one's old ways."
"You didn't have a conscience before you suddenly grew one?" The temptation to make a joke is too strong, the subject matter is slightly uncomfortable. "You should probably get that checked out."
Yeah, don't do that. Not even out of morbid curiousity.
"They are."
A friendly nudge, at his side with her elbow. "You good?" Might be time to be getting in. She's going to have to find a place to rinse Wags' paws off before she marches him up the tower.
She is, the brief conversation about regret notwithstanding. Though, it's the most she's ever spoken about it before. To anybody. Surely that counts for something.
"I'm– gonna see if I can find something to give the dog," she says, hands in pockets. A bone, or a bit of good food. "Wanna come?"
"Sure," Loki answers since he'd rather spend more time with Abby than spend more time spinning in his own brain about his own failures, real or believed, past or future.
"Let's find this good boy some good treats, hm?" He grins at Abby, at Wagner.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
His hands are shoved deep in his pockets and he shrugs. "But if I wanted to be remembered better I suppose I should have acted differently."
no subject
She wrinkles her nose.
"You told me you tried to take over an entire planet," she says eventually, looking up. "Why?"
no subject
But he sighs, at that question, and gives a little shrug. "I was angry. At my family. And I wanted power, legitimized power, and that seemed a way to do it." Not an easy one, mind, but a way nonetheless. "Not the best plan I've ever had, by far."
But none of his plans have been excellent, really.
no subject
"I'm guessing it didn't work out so well." And the Provost here is an enemy because of it. Abby is guessing that isn't the only enemy Loki received as a result of this plan. "Sorry," she adds, hoping she didn't make him uncomfortable, "We don't have to talk about it."
no subject
"Definitely not." It could have been much worse, honestly. He could have been usurped by a revolutionary underground after the fact instead. That would have been an embarrassment.
Loki shakes his head. "It's fine." It doesn't make him uncomfortable, just annoyed at how everything went down. "You should know."
no subject
Is it weird that she likes that they have this odd thing in common: bad decisions on a cataclysmic scale. Makes her feel a little more grounded.
The dog has shot off at a mad sprint again while they've been talking. He's gonna be so tired later. Abby chuckles, and scuffs at the ground with her shoe. She holds her breath for a moment. "... D'you regret it?"
/covers this timestamp my god
"Yes," comes after a beat, because he needed to figure out if they were really regrets, what he felt, or just annoyance at the aftermath; a chain reaction he didn't properly predict. "Oh, certainly, it would have been grand if it had been ever capable of working, but it wasn't. At any point. Besides which, I don't really want to run an entire planet when one gets down to the brass tacks of the matter."
i see no timestamp
"Yeah," she says, just to say something. Maybe she'd expected something a little more sincere in response.
no subject
That comes after a few beats of both of them standing, silently. The mabari is still running from one end to the other, but Loki has long ceased tracking his movements. "I regret that it became my legacy. That I caused so much damage, so much heartbreak." For some people he will forever be the villain. He regrets that too.
no subject
"Yeah." This time, her voice is a little hoarse. She directs a grim squint out toward the horizon. "I– feel like that, too."
Her feelings about what she did to Joel are so snarled around the core of her grief that it's difficult to parse them out, but she can call that sentiment true. The fallout from her actions ruined everything.
no subject
Loki draws his hand through his hair, pushing loose strands away from his face that the wind will simply whip up once more as soon as he's done.
"I wonder, sometimes, if it isn't easier to just remain the villain." Shaking his head. "But that doesn't feel like a real option, and I don't want to remain the same."
no subject
"Trust me, it's– not." It's funny to think of herself as a villain (kinda over the top, right...) but to some people she was. To Ellie, she probably was. To the Seraphites, she definitely was. "You have to find a way to break out of it. And keep going."
There is all the difference between inching forward and turning around in endless circles.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
Like, it makes sense but... whewf.
no subject
no subject
Or to spare. You had to reserve it for the worst of the worst.
no subject
no subject
"They are."
A friendly nudge, at his side with her elbow. "You good?" Might be time to be getting in. She's going to have to find a place to rinse Wags' paws off before she marches him up the tower.
no subject
no subject
She is, the brief conversation about regret notwithstanding. Though, it's the most she's ever spoken about it before. To anybody. Surely that counts for something.
"I'm– gonna see if I can find something to give the dog," she says, hands in pockets. A bone, or a bit of good food. "Wanna come?"
no subject
"Let's find this good boy some good treats, hm?" He grins at Abby, at Wagner.